


Out of Mana, Out of Hope

by Exophile_3D (bearbane)



Series: Orcs Are Hot [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Action & Romance, Adventure, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Arena, Assassins & Hitmen, Champion - Freeform, Combat, Cunnilingus, Denial of Feelings, Eating out, Emotionally Repressed, Eventual Smut, Exophilia, F/M, Florence Nightingale Effect, Gratuitous Smut, Half-orc, Hot Sex, Kidnapping, Kissing, Large Cock, Love at First Sight, Love/Hate, Lust at First Sight, Monster Boyfriend, Naked Male Clothed Female, One-Sided Attraction, Orcs, Orgasm, Past Relationship(s), Penis In Vagina Sex, Penis Size, Poison, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex, Shameless Smut, Simultaneous Orgasm, Size Difference, Smut, Standing Sex, Stormwind City, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Thunderstorms, True Mates, Unrequited Love, Vaginal Sex, Vanilla, excessive cum, orc boyfriend, orc lover, orc smut, past trauma, worgs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 50,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25384630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearbane/pseuds/Exophile_3D
Summary: *New chapter up 20th September 2020.*A young half-orc runs into a human mage he believes to be his true mate, but she makes it quite clear that she would never have anything to do with his kind. Are his instincts utterly wrong, or is there more at play than meets the eye?Yeah yeah, I know, I suck at naming stories. I just liked this line when I wrote it. It’s probably not representative of the story as a whole, but then again, neither was my ‘Orc Before Breakfast’ so... *shrugs and wanders off*Tags and rating will be updated as the story grows. Might not be quite so smut-heavy as my other orc fic, sorry. :( If you're just here for the smut, it starts at Chapter 6.
Relationships: Female Human(s)/Male Orc(s) (Warcraft)
Series: Orcs Are Hot [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838392
Comments: 90
Kudos: 58





	1. Prologue

The mage’s mana was all but exhausted, and if she had to resort to physical defence, the half-orc was more than a match for her. The sky split again, incandescent with skyfire, and thunder boomed directly overhead, while the rain hammered down in torrents, plastering her robes to her skin.

The half-orc rounded on her, steely purpose in his eyes. She had kept him at bay with oaths and insults for days without number and now his patience had come to an end. The heavens were riven again with another thunderbolt that illuminated her opponent from above, catching his eyes, tusks and the slick skin of his bare abdomen in its glare and sending jolts of electricity through her veins. Rain cascaded from his form, saturating the ground, but the downpour did nothing to lessen the oppressive humidity of the air.

If she waited a little longer, she would have enough energy for a very basic elemental discharge, but her antagonist had already closed the distance between them and was looming over her, his intentions unequivocal. His hands seized her shoulders in an iron grip, ratcheting her agitation up to fever pitch. Just another few seconds and she’d have the energy she needed, but it wasn’t going to be fast enough. She opened her mouth to hurl another insult, the word ‘ _mongrel_ ’ forming in her mind, but he stole her chance - and her breath - sealing his lips against hers in a searing kiss.

With a storm-rent sky alone to serve as witness, the half-orc lowered her to the sodden ground.


	2. Love at First Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our hero appears to equate the Orcish version of Love at First Sight with eating a bad rat kebab…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the writing bug struck again, I’ve been trying to figure out which of the gazillion ideas I have currently to take forward. This guy turned up more or less fully formed in my head the other day and said ‘write me!’ So I did.

Kel’dan was in love with the city. He had been to many in his twenty years, and had found that each boasted its own unique blend of colours and smells. They usually housed such a melting pot of races that he himself barely stood out. True, there were some human cities where he had learned his olive skin and short tusks earned him unwarranted hostility and even violence, but here in Stormwind, his mixed heritage seemed barely to register. His eyes roved over the soaring towers, the sparkling waters of the rivers that cut alongside the thoroughfares, and the hustle and bustle of city life, and he smiled. It was for these very sights that he had left his family behind and set out alone to see the world. He stopped to converse with a market trader, pulling the latest fruits of his labours from his pack and handing them to the curious stall-holder. 

“You make these?” the man asked, his voice gruff with surprise.

Kel’dan nodded and grinned, pleased at the implicit praise. He had grown used to a certain measure of shock when he shared his art. The small wooden items he made were intricate and emblazoned with unusual geometric designs that attracted attention from aristocratic and peasant eyes alike. The latest additions to his repertoire were miniature totems, inspired by his recent sojourn at Thunder Bluff, and they had sold well in the last couple of cities he had passed through. They haggled over a price for a while, and, with his pack considerably lighter and his coin purse considerably fuller, the half-orc ventured on into the central square. He had just used some of his newfound wealth to buy himself a midday snack when the sound of hooves echoed through the arched passageway that led onto the courtyard, accompanied by shouts of ‘Make way!’ and ‘Stand aside!’ He found himself jostled by the thronging crowd as they hurried to obey the order, several people starting and moving around him as they realised he was not so easily pushed aside. Kel’dan grinned: there were certain advantages to the Orcish elements of his physique. He consequently secured himself a spot at the front of the crowd and chewed on his snack as he waited for what might happen next.

Presently the source of all the commotion emerged, and a procession of eight people on horseback made its way through the square. They were a mix of men and women, some in light armour, some in rich clothing, and in the centre rode a woman in the robes of a mage whose presence instantly drew Kel’dan’s eye. The deep olive greens and russet browns she wore perfectly complemented the coppery tone of her hair, and from where he stood, he was close enough to make out that her eyes had that same bright metallic tint. As he watched, she turned to laugh at something her companion had just said and Kel’dan was transfixed by the soft lines of her face and the the amusement it conveyed. Her gaze was drawn to the young half-orc as she rode past. It could not have been otherwise: while half-orcs were not an uncommon sight in Stormwind, he certainly stood out.

He was taller and bulkier than most humans, a clear sign of his orcish heritage, and beneath his olive hide powerful muscles rolled. His left arm, shoulder and chest were covered in intricate geometric design that evoked distant lands and primitive artistry, and his pointed left ear was pierced many times over and hung with rings. The sides of his head were shaved, and a single long braid hung from the top of his head to the small of his back, banded at intervals with a dark metal. His tusks were short by orc standards, protruding barely a thumb’s length from his lower lip, but still sharp and powerful enough to be of use in a fight. He was dressed in brown leather trousers, stained from months of travel, and a simple harness that attached the leather manica that covered his right arm and the pauldron that protected his left shoulder. Sturdy travelling boots and a leather pack made up his ensemble, and a two-handed sword was slung across his back.

A smile edged its way onto Kel’dan’s tusked lips. It was a simple gesture really: an appreciation of what he was seeing; a passing greeting to a fellow being. Her reaction was instant and unmistakeably clear. The young woman curled her lip at him in evident disgust, tossed her head and spurred her horse to put as much distance between them as possible with no further delay. Her scent wafted on the breeze and reached his sensitive nostrils as she rode away. The young half-orc stood as though rooted to the spot while the procession left the square and the crowd resumed its normal flow around him, his mind lost in old Orcish lore that most of his kind took for old wives’ tales. _It could not be_. He shook his head as though to restore good sense. It was more likely a reaction to the food he’d just eaten, and he sniffed it cautiously, just to be sure. While the stallholder had said it was chicken, Kel’dan had on occasion resorted to eating rat, and that was currently top of his list of suspects for the actual source of the meat.

Troubled, he turned to the stall-holder who had sold him the suspected rat kebab and asked, “Who was that?”

“Rani Maelstrom,” came the response.

Kel’dan opened his hands in a patent request for more information.

“The Lady of House Maelstrom,” explained the stall-holder with exaggerated patience. He went back to flipping rat meat on his grill. “She’s off to the arena. Should be a good show - they’re holding the trial of the champion today.”

“The trial of the champion?” asked Kel’dan.

“An open contest. The winner will be her champion,” explained the stall-holder, again with a tone that one might use to explain that water was wet.

“Where?”

“Elwynn Forest. Follow the procession if you want to see it.”

“My thanks,” said Kel’dan, and as an afterthought, he raised his kebab and added, “And thanks again for the rat!” The stallholder’s queue dissipated amidst cries of disgust.

Kel’dan chuckled and moved to the middle of the street, watching the procession disappear from the opposite side of the square. Half-blood he might be, but his nose didn’t lie, and the imperatives the young mage’s scent conveyed were compelling him to act. If there was an opportunity here to get to know her, or even better, to put his skills to use in her service, then he intended to seize it.

 _Rani_ , he whispered to himself, rolling the name around his tongue and cementing the association between that sound and the vision he had just beheld. It stirred desires in him that would need to be answered. He might not yet know what that meant, or how those ends would be achieved, but there was one thing Kel’dan knew for certain: the creature who had just passed him would shape his life from that day forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t know when, I don’t know how, but I know something’s starting right nooooooooow…” Sorry, I was in a very silly mood when I wrote that last paragraph and my little half-orc was totally having a Little Mermaid moment. XD


	3. The Champion of House Maelstrom

A makeshift arena had been created a mile or so outside the city in a clearing at the side of the main road, with ropes on poles to delineate the edges. Pennants flew in the afternoon breeze and sunshine glinted off an assortment of men and other creatures in light armour. At the far side of the arena, a canopied platform had been set up, and the group of people who had ridden through the square were seated on it in the shade. Kel’dan’s eye was instantly drawn to the woman who sat at the centre and his heart skipped a beat at the very sight of her. She was turned away from him, her face in profile as she conversed with a man in armour at her side. Their features suggested they were siblings, but where Lady Maelstrom’s hair shone like copper, the man’s was a dull brown, tied back in a pert, curving tail. 

Kel’dan rolled his huge shoulders, stretched the cricks from his neck and threw an appraising glance over the competition. There were none here who could match his size and reach, but there were a couple that looked like they might possess some magic they could use to their advantage, and others who looked like they might fight dirty. His martial lessons with his father’s clan had prepared him well for a variety of adversaries, itself being comprised of several different races. He knew how Draenei moved, he knew the tricks of the blood-elves, and thanks to the three months he had just spent at Thunder Bluff, he was prepared for the blunt charge of a Tauren. Most of those assembled were human, which made things that much simpler: it was therefore just a matter of strength and speed, both of which Kel’dan had in spades.

A voice cut across his strategising, commanding his attention. Rani Maelstrom’s brother had gained his feet and was addressing the competitors, laying down the rules and explaining how the victor would be chosen. It seemed pretty simple to Kel’dan: it was last man standing, no killing blows. While some of his full-blood brethren would struggle with the latter part of that order, the half-orc had enough self-discipline and presence of mind to keep a play-fight to just that. Dumping his pack at the side of the makeshift arena, he stepped over the rope and joined the others at the centre, sensing the young mage’s eyes on him as he moved. He raised his gaze to meet hers, hoping to see some sign that his interest in her was reciprocated. Her contempt was clear, but his father’s lessons had imbued him with a sense of trust in his own instincts, and he knew that the the story the eye told was sometimes at odds with the truth. He really hoped that was the case here. But there was no more time for consideration: at the sound from a horn, the free-for-all began.

At first, Kel’dan had difficulty finding an opponent to face him, most of them giving him one appalled glance and then a wide berth. Not the end of the world: if he only had to fight the other man standing at the end of the combat, then he would do so with a full supply of energy. Presently, he clashed with a night elf, a small, fast opponent with twin daggers that gleamed with an odious green light that suggested poison. Kel’dan kept his feet relatively still, not even attempting to match the elf’s greater speed, and awaited his opening. When it came, he drove a fist straight into the slender creature’s face, smashing his nose to a pulp and felling him instantly. A fizzing sound over to his right warned him there was some magic incoming and he dropped to the ground, supporting himself low on his hands, leaping back up as the fireball roared past and lunging in to snap the caster’s wrists before he could recharge. He nodded in satisfaction as the draenei backed off, spell-casting appendages dangling uselessly.

Before too much longer, it came down to Kel’dan and one other, a giant of a human wearing colours that suggested he was already part of House Maelstrom. The man’s victories had already drawn a great amount of approbation from the crowd, and Kel’dan suspected he was not only the favourite to win, but the one that was supposed to get the job. His suspicions were confirmed as the human stepped closer, bastard sword lowered in a clear sign of truce, and he tossed his head to signal he wanted to talk. The half-orc relaxed his stance somewhat, ever keeping a wary eye on the man.

“You’ve done well, Orc.” 

“Fight’s not over yet,” came the amused reply. Kel’dan had yet to draw a weapon, and he was not above using psychological means to cow his opponent. His failure to do so sent a clear message: the threat was so minimal he would not need it.

“We’d be happy to find a place for you in our House guard, or the city militia,” said the man.

Kel’dan scowled. “That’s not why I came here.”

“I know.” The human glanced over his shoulder and indicated the raised platform with a tilt of his head. “She is very beautiful,” he commented, “And everyone who has chanced their arm today would kill to be her champion.” He turned to fix the half-orc with a stern glare. “But she - and this position - are promised to _me_.”

Kel’dan’s eyes flicked to the creature that had occupied his thoughts since he had first laid eyes on her, feeling a surge of mixed desire, need and longing that was just as strong as the first moment he had experienced it. Had he made a mistake? Could his senses be tricking him? Regardless of the answer to that conundrum, what did this man expect him to do? Throw the fight to assuage his sense of entitlement?

“Then you won’t mind proving yourself for her, will you?” demanded the half-orc.

“If you’re determined to make this difficult for yourself,” said the other with a resigned sigh and a curl of his lip. “Then so be it.”

Without warning he twisted his wrist and slammed the point of his blade upwards towards Kel’dan’s unprotected midriff. The half-orc slapped his palms together just in time, seizing and halting the blade’s progress so the tip of the sword just barely grazed him. Incensed at the man’s disregard for the tourney rules and his underhand approach - as well as his earlier words - Kel’dan ripped the sword from his grasp and, in a vindictive move that bespoke his Orcish heritage, bent the blade into a ‘U’ shape and tossed it aside. The crowd’s gasp spurred him on and he rounded on the unarmed human, gauging his speed and reach. In a blur of motion, the man landed him with a sledgehammer blow that came out of nowhere, knocking Kel’dan on his arse and filling his vision with white dots. Growling, he shook his head, vaulted to his feet and kicked the man’s kneecap in from the side, buckling his leg and sending him to his knees. Delivering a piledriver punch of his own that gave him far more satisfaction than was strictly appropriate, he seized the defeated warrior by the hair, swivelled him around to face the platform and tossed his head in a request for judgement.

Kel’dan took in several details in quick succession. Rani Maelstrom’s eyes were wide, her hands gripping the arms of her chair until her knuckles were white, and her chest was heaving either in excitement or fear - from this distance he couldn’t make out her scent well enough to tell. Her brother was on his feet, alarm written clear on his features and the crowd was quiet save for the occasional gasp or ‘boo’. His vanquishing of their favourite had not played well with the people then. Kel’dan snorted. This wasn’t for their entertainment.

There was some discussion amongst those assembled on the platform, and several concerned glances were aimed at the vignette in the arena. He was able to make out a few words when the wind blew the right way, conveying phrases such as ‘nothing explicitly forbidding’ and ‘ _would_ make a formidable protector’ and finally, insultingly, ‘not a full-blood greenskin anyway’. Kel’dan ducked his head, hiding the snarl that leached onto his features, despite his best efforts. The party turned to face the arena again, and then judgement was passed. Kel’dan was proclaimed the winner, much to the confusion and upset of the crowd, and the warrior he had beaten regained his feet and staggered from the arena, leaving Kel’dan in the ring alone.

“You may approach,” said Lady Maelstrom’s brother, keeping a watchful eye on the victor.

The half-orc stepped forward to stand before the platform, eyes riveted on the object of his desires. At a nudge from her brother, lady Maelstrom rose to her feet and and gazed down at him, although Kel’dan noted she would not look him in the eye.

With her face twisted in distaste, she said, “Kneel.”

Kel’dan did as he was bid, and Rani presented him with a small ceremonial dagger with the Maelstrom house insignia both embossed onto the sheath and engraved upon the blade. It was a lot smaller than Kel’dan would have liked, but he guessed from its ostentatiousness it was intended more for accentuating a dress uniform than gutting wild boar.

“I am Sol, of the house Malestrom. Your name, Orc?” asked the mage’s brother.

“Kel’dan,” he replied.

“Then I pronounce Kel’dan Champion to the Lady Maelstrom,” he proclaimed. “You will take your oath now. You will swear to uphold the honour of House Maelstrom. You will protect the Lady Maelstrom with your very life, and you will stand for her - and the House - in all martial matters. You will remain strong in heart and spirit, and commit to chastity and purity while in our service.”

That last one was going to take some effort, and Kel’dan wondered how that would have worked had the man who was ostensibly her suitor won the fight. He suspected it was an addendum to the Champion’s Oath they had created just for him.

“Do you so swear?” Sol’s imperious demand rang out across the silent glade.

“I swear,” replied Kel’dan. He wasn’t quite sure how he was going to deal with the whole purity and chastity part, but if it gave him an opportunity to be near Rani, then he would get himself a damned chastity belt.

Sol Maelstrom stepped forward and laid his blade on the half-orc’s shoulder. As he did so, Kel’dan glimpsed something hard, something callous in the man’s eyes, and just for a moment, he half-expected the blade to slide sideways and open up his jugular. The instant passed however, and seconds later, he was rising to his feet as the new Champion of House Maelstrom. There was a smattering of broken applause, which Sol urged into something approximating a true celebration with a few vigorous waves of his arms. Kel’dan turned to regard Rani’s face - after all, hers was the only approval he craved. His heart sank. There was no warmth in her expression, no trace of happiness, just cold disdain. It struck him then that her brother Sol was also watching Rani closely, his eyes flicking between the two of them as though expecting something to happen.

The moment passed, and the crowd began to disperse along with the would-be champions and the party on the platform. The warrior whose knee he had dislocated hobbled over to him and gave him his orders, informing him with no small amount of satisfaction where, when and to whom he was to report. The half-orc groaned inwardly. He guessed the man would be a vindictive taskmaster. 

Kel’dan watched the Maelstrom party mount their horses and ride off without so much as a backwards glance, and he speculated on what the coming weeks had in store for him. He had indentured himself to a man he had humiliated on the field and whose position he had stolen, and would spend the foreseeable future living in close proximity to the woman he desired, bound by an edict of chastity. 

What on Azeroth had he landed himself in?


	4. Into the Wilds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kel'dan and Rani are thrown together out in the wilds alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehmahgerd! This has taken so bloody long. I had 10,000+ words of the next few chapters written but I couldn’t post any of it until I’d finalised almost everything to make sure everything before and after made sense. 

Kel’dan was coming to the conclusion that he and the horse had a hate-hate relationship. Not only did its rolling gait make him queasy, but the beast was highly uncooperative and the saddle gave him arse-ache. It stank too, a rank scent that put him in mind of tanneries and sour sweat, and if that weren’t bad enough, the malodourous beast had thrown him three times in the last hour alone. It seemed to harbour a particular dislike for the strong-tasting jerky he had been snacking on, and the last two occasions he had dared pull some from his pouch, the horse had ejected him from the saddle with considerable gusto. As a result, he now had a sore elbow to match his sore arse. He missed his wolf mount, and not just for the comparative comfort. The two had been together since Kel’dan’s ealiest memories began and their joint escapades constituted some of the best moments of his life. He still grieved daily, but his new friends at Thunder Bluff had honoured the loyal beast when he had given his life in their protection, and the half-orc felt sure the creature’s spirit was chasing deer - or she-wolves - in some idyllic afterlife. 

Kel’dan’s mind turned from bittersweet memories back to the task at hand. He had been shaken roughly awake in the middle of the night with word that Lady Maelstrom had been taken from her bedchamber and that there was not a single clue as to what might have happened. Despite having been asleep in the barracks at the time, most of the senior members of the household appeared to be laying the blame at his feet. As a consequence, he was now on the road south out of Stormwind while the rest of the search parties had taken other routes. This led Kel’dan to suspect that they thought South was the least likely direction, but while his human employers might think they had sent him on a fool’s errand, his innate racial abilities told him otherwise. While inspecting Lady Maelstrom’s chambers with the others, he had caught a scent he knew only too well, and was even now following the last vestiges of it as his surly mount bucked him from side to side along the rutted road. There was an orc encampment a few days south of the city, and while he personally was unfamiliar with its denizens, he had more chance of walking unharmed into their midst than any of the human soldiers, and not for one moment would they imagine that a half-orc was the Lady Maelstrom’s champion. 

From there, his thoughts flew inevitably to the girl, the unnameable feelings she had roused in him, and the unsettling connotations that went with them. He was as well versed as anyone in the lore of his own expansive clan, but he had never considered the stories anything more than entertainment and allegory - until now. A common thread ran through some of the oldest of the Orcish tales, particularly those concerned with great romances, although the love stories bound into Orcish mythology were a far cry from those he heard at his human mother’s knee. This thread concerned the innate knowledge with which an Orc is imbued when he or she finds their true mate. Most level-headed listeners understood that the concept existed only as a legend, that it was a storytelling ploy old-timers used to add some romance to otherwise bloody tales, and to inspire younglings to seek out mates and grow the clan. Kel’dan had always counted himself among this group of enlightened listeners. Since the young half-orc had encountered Rani however, his opinion had radically changed: when he looked at her, when he scented her, he _knew_.

After a couple of days and nights on the road with no sleep, Kel’dan picked up the scent he had found in the Lady Maelstrom’s chambers. From there it was a simple task to locate the fleeing company, and follow them at a safe distance. When they reached the Orc town - it was far too permanent a construction to be considered a camp - Kel’dan dismounted and sauntered unchallenged past the gates with his horse in tow. While they might not welcome him with open arms, they would at least not link him with Rani, and he intended to use that knowledge to his advantage. He followed his nose to a handful of rough wooden cages towards the east side of the town near the guard-house and soon spied Lady Maelstrom’s red hair in amongst the dull browns and yellows of her fellow companions. Tossing his head to one of the guards in a passing greeting, he strolled over to the cages. 

“These for sale?” he asked. He could see Rani’s pale face behind the nearest orc guard. She had moved forward and was gripping the bars, watching intently.

“You ain’t got enough coin for any of these,” drawled the orc, waving a burly hand at him dismissively.

“I’ll swap you for my horse,” suggested Kel’dan with a disarming grin.

The orc bared his teeth and snarled. “Get that animal out of here!”

Kel’dan shrugged and turned the horse around as though to comply, then stopped and turned to the guard, pulling an item from his belt-pouch as though as an afterthought. “You want some jerky?”

True to form, the horse lashed out with its hind legs and sent several hundred pounds of dazed orc smashing through the bars of the nearest wooden cage. The area erupted into action. A dozen prisoners leaped from the splintered cage and began to run in all directions, and the remaining guards were hard pressed to corral them all. Kel’dan stepped forward and smashed open the lock on Rani’s cage, throwing the door wide and offering a hand to assist her. 

Her face was a mask of fury. “I didn’t need your help, cur!” she yelled, and extending her hands before her, she loosed a blast of fire energy, eyes wild. Confident she might be, but Lady Maelstrom’s control of the elements was that of a novice, and the small ball of flames she conjured went off at an angle, missed the guards completely and disappeared into the neck of a barrel. As luck would have it, it was a barrel of oil, and the fire ignited the dark liquid in a conflagration that fairly toasted their enemies. Flaming orcs scattered from the scene, one jumping into a nearby trough, another vaulting a fence into a pigsty and rolling in the mud to extinguish the flames, and a third running blindly into a straw-thatched hut. The little building erupted with a ‘whoomph’ and started to draw attention. It would have meant the end of the escape attempt, had the hut not been linked to several more by means of little wooden walkways, and within seconds, a domino effect and a prevailing wind had half the town ablaze. Rani and Kel’dan looked from the burning town to each other and back again, mouths agape. Fortunately, no-one had much time for the fleeing captives now, so Kel’dan wasted no further time: he vaulted to his horse’s back, hauled Rani up behind him and galloped out of the town at full speed.

The horse, spurred as much by the smoke and screams as Kel’dan’s heels kept up a breakneck pace for several miles, until he began to worry about the wild-eyed animal’s headlong charge and he forced it to slow to a canter. He turned the sweating creature around and listened, his ears and nose alert for the slightest hint of pursuit. The road behind the was silent, and only distant plumes of smoke marked the scene of their escape. Kel’dan gave a relieved sigh and steered the snorting mount off the road. They headed off across country and into the woods, seeking a spot out of sight where they might camp for the night. He found a secluded area next to a stream where willows grew in profusion, and the grass was sprinkled with flowering herbs. He dropped to the ground and held up a hand to help Rani dismount. She took his hand only long enough to use it as leverage while she dropped into his waiting embrace, then yanked herself free with a scowl, hurrying away from him to lean against a moss-covered boulder.

“Hands off me, _mongrel_ ,” she seethed. 

Kel’dan raised his hands to show he had meant no offence and backed up a few steps. In a smooth movement, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head. He had evidently scared her and despite his rescue, he realised he had yet to earn her trust. He hoped his gesture would reassure her of his deference to her, of his honour, and even of the damned chastity he was oath-bound to keep. 

“Forgive me, Lady Maelstrom. I am sorry it took so long to find you.” 

“Two days! Two days I’ve been stuck with those stinking orc marauders.” She made a face and gave a little shake of disgust. She dropped her gaze to the kneeling figure before her. “How long must I endure your stench, greenskin?”

Kel’dan ignored the insult. It was likely her nerves were just a little frayed after her misadventure. “It’s about three days’ ride from here to Stormwind, a little longer if the horse is carrying two-”

“You’ll walk at my heels like the dog you are!” she interjected.

Kel’dan stiffened and looked up at her from under a lowered brow. She flinched at the hard look in his eye and stood to put a little more distance between them, busying herself with an examination of the saddlebags.

“But I don’t think we should take the road,” said Kel’dan, rising to his feet and dusting off his knee.

“Why not?” she demanded. Suspicion clouded her brow.

“They’ll be looking for us. A _half-orc_ ,” he put emphasis on the word to make it clear to her that her insults were unwelcome - if Rani noticed, she did not show it - “and a high-born lady will attract attention. We should stick to the country, work around the settlements and keep them off our scent.” 

“How long will that take?” queried Rani, fixing him with a horrified glare.

“At least twice as long.” At her look of disgust, he asked, “Can’t you … port us back there?”

“No!” shouted the mage. “Idiot mongrel. What do you take me for? I am not yet powerful enough for that.” She smoothed at the wrinkles in her robes. “My duties, my responsibilities take so much of my time. I am not at liberty to pursue the arcane arts as well.”

Kel’dan shrugged. “You’ll have plenty of time in the coming days. Use it to practice,” he suggested.

Rani was to all appearances readying another scathing retort, but she appeared to reconsider and shut her mouth again. “Is there anything to eat? I’d welcome a change from that greenskin muck they were feeding me.”

Kel’dan pulled out some items from his pack and set about making a fire. When it was lit, he foraged up some root vegetables and herbs, took some water from the river and cooked a passable vegetable stew. Rani’s face might not have shown her appreciation, but her wooden bowl was clean when she put it down, and she sneaked a few more spoonfuls straight out of the cook-pot when she thought his attention was elsewhere. As dark encroached on the little camp, Kel’dan pulled out a bedroll from his pack and handed it to her along with a blanket. Rani looked at them as though he had just offered her a horse turd.

“It’s those or nothing,” he advised.

Rani threw her arms in the air. “It’s not enough I’m out in the stinking wilds with no proper supplies and no proper food-” she leaped to her feet, jerking her body out of the way of a small firefly and yelping in surprise. At Kel’dan’s humoured laugh, she added with venom, “I’m stuck in the company of a _half-breed_.”

Kel’dan had remained steadfastly inured to her insults up until now, but that one phrase struck a nerve and triggered memories he had tried hard to bury. While his childhood had been happier than most half-orc young, still he was not without enemies, even within his own tribe. The more unkind of his peers not only taunted him for his ‘impure’ blood, but also suggested his father must be ashamed to have such a runt as his only son. The less intelligent of them had also suggested that his father should get himself a pure-blood orc mate, so he could sire a suitable heir for his vast legacy. Kel’dan had exploded into a fit of violence that would have put a berserker to shame. He beat the offender to within an inch of his life and the chief’s second-in-command was forced to intervene personally to break up the fight. It was not the proudest moment of his life, but it did at least curtail the insults.

The truth of it was that his father had never actually given him the slightest reason to think he was anything but proud of him, but still the idea gnawed at him. It was one of the reasons he had left to wander the world: the mere thought he might be a source of shame to either of his parents was almost more than he could bear, and if he were to return home, he would be forced to face the truth. 

Kel’dan had not been home in three years.

The half-orc gave a little shrug and placed the items down next to the moss-covered rock. “Take them, don’t take them. There is nothing else.” And with that, he sat down cross-legged on the opposite side of the fire from her and removed a knife and a small chunk of wood from his pack. While the fire crackled and the stars came out overhead, he went back to work on the shape he was starting to uncover from the small wooden cylinder. The form he sought already lived within the wood - it was up to his knife, under the direction of his eyes and hands, to dig it out. He paid no more attention to his companion, but he saw her busying herself on the far side of the flames, unrolling the sleeping mat and fussing with the blanket, and he contented himself in the knowledge that she would at least have some level of comfort.

The next morning’s dawn brought a sky the colour of dulled bronze, and a solid, windless heat that grew more oppressive as the day wore on. They made their way across meadows thick with summer grass and alive with the reedy sounds of crickets, with Lady Maelstrom riding and her champion walking beside her. They had exchanged few words since her last insult of the night before, and Kel’dan was in no mood to try to start a conversation. As midday approached and the heat reached stifling levels across the vast, flat expanse they were traversing, Kel’dan called a halt. His leather trousers, while useful for travelling and riding, and as a form of light armour, were not built for this heat and not only did they chafe, but his balls were cooking. They sheltered through the worst of the day’s heat beneath some trees, and while it was still suffocatingly hot and airless, it did afford Kel’dan some relief in the trouser department.

They forged on once more when the shadows lengthened, and put a few more miles behind them before Rani decided she was too tired to ride any further. Kel’dan kept his opinion on that to himself. He realised a combination of heat and fatigue was making him cranky and while the silence wasn’t fun, it was better than arguing. This time, he managed to catch some small game, which he duly skinned and roasted. While Rani might have squealed in disgust at the former activity, she was more than happy to consume the fruits of the latter.

“I need you to take a watch tonight,” said the half-orc, trying to keep the his voice clear. He had not slept during the two days and nights of pursuit, and he had taken a full watch the night before just so his charge could rest. While endowed with a good deal more stamina than a human, he had reached his limit. His voice was starting to slur, his muscles were shaky and his gait unsteady, and his thoughts were hazy and whirling. He needed to sleep.

Lady Maelstrom looked at him askance. “You want me to do _what_ , greenskin?” 

“I’ll be no good to you if I’m falling asleep when those orcs catch up with us,” he warned. She seemed to see the sense in that, and tilted her head graciously.

“You take first watch and wake me in a few hours,” he advised, lying down in the grass with his hands beneath his head. The likelihood of attack was slim during these late evening hours, and provided she woke him when he had stipulated, he could tackle the more perilous hours before dawn and still benefit from a few hours of sleep in the meantime. He had spent so much of his life on the march and in busy camps while his parents’ roving feet took their following across half the continent, that he could bed down pretty much anywhere and fall asleep at the drop of a hat. He could wake and be battle-ready just as quickly, which in his experience was sometimes the difference between life and death. 

And so their lives fell into a routine over the subsequent days and nights. Rani would ride for several hours at a time, then dismount to walk when she became saddle-sore. Kel’dan and the horse maintained a healthy dislike of each other, and he was just as happy to progress on foot and give the belligerent beast a rest for a few hours a day. At night, Kel’dan would prepare their meal - Rani seemed to have no such skills - and his travelling companion would take first watch with the half-orc taking over and whittling his way through the darkest hours. 

On the fourth morning of their travels, Kel’dan rose early and sought the nearby river to bathe. The heat had been their persistent and unwanted companion since they set out, and the world was in dire need of a thunderstorm. The half-orc had spent every second of the last few days wanting to peel off a layer of his skin, so hot and clammy did it feel. Now, with a free-flowing body of water at hand, he lost little time in divesting himself of his clothing and submerging himself in the stream. He swam for a while, savouring the first cool sensation to grace his skin in days, and letting the currents tickle him like the feathery touch of female fingers. Just as the thought crystallised, he glanced towards the bank to see a tuft of red hair sticking up above the reeds. He turned his eyes back to the sky as he floated on his back, an amused grin curving his lips. She was spying on him. A little breath of wind carried the smell of herbs and fire ash to him from the direction of their camp, along with Rani’s unique scent. There was no mistaking the message it conveyed - she was excited. With a dual sense of confidence and mischief growing in him, he pretended not to have noticed her presence and waded out of the stream a scant six feet from her nose. 

Kel’dan stood drying himself next to the firepit with a rough cloth from his pack, not yet willing to attempt to cover his legs with tight leather again. He was quite happy to postpone dressing for a while yet, particularly given that from where he stood, Rani could not step out of her hiding place without revealing that she had indeed secreted herself there. Long moments passed. The river babbled, insects chirruped and the heat pressed down on the little camp. 

Eventually, Rani tore out of the bushes, picked up the blanket and threw it at Kel’dan, yelling, “Cover yourself up, you shameless…. lime-skin!” 

Kel’dan caught the blanket and gave her a suave smile. “If you like. But it does feel good to get the fresh air on my skin - you should try it. And I see you were down by the stream. Go on in - the water’s fine.”

Rani’s face twitched, working through a plethora of emotions until finally it settled on the cold, unwelcoming look she habitually wore. “You took an oath of purity and chastity, half-breed. See that you keep it.” And with that, she stamped off back down to the river.

The girl truly was an enigma. Even worse than the constant burden of the leaden skies and oppressive heat was the confusion the half-orc felt in Rani’s presence. His senses conspired on a moment-by-moment basis to insist that she was the one for him. It made his chest - and loins - ache with the pure need of it every hour of every day. The urge to reach her, connect with her, to consummate the bond he knew in his gut was true and strong was gnawing at his self-control incessantly, and having her by his side every day was tantamount to torture. Yet she rebuffed him, denigrated him, and insulted him every time she opened her mouth, making it abundantly clear that she was offended by the very ground on which he stood. Then she would go and do something like this. He had felt her eyes on him several times during the first watches of the night, but whenever he met her gaze, she scowled and dissembled with casual insults that ranged from, “I’ve honestly never seen anything quite so ugly,” to “You’re not quite orc and you’re not quite human, are you? A proper mongrel.” 

And now she had invented ‘lime-skin’ and Kel’dan rather thought she was running out of insults. He glanced at his arm, turning it so it rotated through light and shade. It was somewhere between brown and light green, a colour he found quite agreeable. He had never had any cause to hate his heritage. While his parents were of different races which were often prone to violence against one another, they themselves were very much in love and had raised him to be proud of both sides of his ancestry. His skin colour might be different, but it just made him unique, a quality he valued highly. He sensed there was more to Rani’s insults than met the eye and wondered, not for the first time, if they were a form of defence, or if they hid a deeper secret. He had seen her cry on occasion: it must be hard for her, so far from friends and family. He missed his own, more than he could ever put into words, but he had made his choice. Not for him the path of conquest; not for him the spoils of war. Kel’dan would always choose freedom to roam and explore and experience, divorced from that ingrained orcish need to subjugate, subdue and conquer.

Another day travelling in uncomfortable silence under a brassy sky. Another twelve long hours of airless heat that sapped strength and brought a throbbing to the temples. Another day of physical and emotional torment at Rani’s side.

Kel’dan woke to a purplish light at the edges of his vision and he blinked sleepily, letting his ears and nose check for signs of danger before deciding whether to leap to his feet. They detected none so he opened his eyes fully to see Rani seated on a stump at the far side of the fire embers, a small spinning ball of energy hovering between her flexing fingers. Her expression was relaxed, entranced even, and Kel’dan lay perfectly still for a while, savouring the sight of her face without its habitual sneer. 

Without once breaking her concentration or moving her eyes, Rani said, “I see you watching me, Orc.” Her tone was stern, but not aggressive or condescending for once, and she had called him ‘Orc’. While not entirely accurate, he would take it over ‘half-breed’ or ‘mongrel’ any day. She hadn’t told him to stop, however, so Kel’dan felt quite justified in lying there watching her practice. If he had any sense, he would be grabbing the few hours of shuteye he could afford before Rani’s watch ended, but to see her face stripped of all scorn and disgust, to see her entranced and engrossed in something she clearly enjoyed, it was worth the sacrifice. He sent a voiceless prayer to gods he seldom thought about and barely believed in, to ask them to encourage her continue to practice her magic, for it was the first time in their long hours alone together that Kel’dan had felt she didn’t utterly hate him. 


	5. Breakdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The storm is about to break

“How much further, greenskin? You said it would only be a matter of days. Why is it taking so damned long? Are we lost?” Rani’s temperament had not improved in the last few days of travel, and it was not the first time she had asked this question. In fact, it was not the first time today, and the sun had not yet reached its zenith.

In truth, Kel’dan was just as frustrated as his disagreeable companion at the speed of their progress, and he longed for respite from all that chafed and oppressed him. Sweat streamed from him, irritating his skin where his leather armour rubbed it, and running down his hide in a thousand annoying trickles. Moreover, the heat made it difficult to breathe and keeping pace with Rani and the belligerent horse in such conditions did nothing for his mood. 

“I didn’t think we’d only be travelling for a few hours a day,” he snapped. He strode a few more paces, then added begrudgingly, “Lady Maelstrom.”

Rani tossed her head in acknowledgement. “Don’t forget your manners, mongrel.”

It was hard to believe that only a few days previously, Kel’dan had relished the thought of some time alone with Rani, but he was now starting to wish for the seemingly endless ordeal to be over. On top of the woman’s inability to travel for more than half a day before practically collapsing from fatigue, the constant water breaks made their travels even longer. It was easy enough for him - he would just find a rock or tree to piss against and be done in seconds, but Lady Maelstrom’s water regime was an elaborate process. She insisted on finding a bush or rock wall that allowed absolute seclusion and demanded he walk at least a hundred paces away before she could feel comfortable enough to relieve herself. Then he would wait alone with his equine arch-nemesis while she did her business, which took ten times as long as it should. To make matters worse, there was always one break just after they had set out each day. Why the blazes she couldn’t go before they left he had no idea, but as time went on he suspected it was to annoy him, and make him see how inconvenient all this was for her.

And it wasn’t the only thing she did that irked him or made him feel inferior. They had camped in a ruined tower one night, and she had found a small bag along with a moth-eaten but serviceable blanket. Rather than offer Kel’dan one of the two blankets now available, she was instead using it as a pillow. He might be used to sleeping rough on the earth, but a tiny bit of consideration on her part would have gone a long way with her champion. Then, in a misguided effort to strike a friendship with her, he had crafted little figurines while he sat awake on watch, and he had tried to give them to her each morning, but she cast them all from her in disgust, disparaging them as childish tribal effigies. He had no heart to collect them - he had made them for her. In his youthful fancy, one of those gifts would one day be the one that turned her heart, and would make her see him for more than just a half-breed. 

Kel’dan made many efforts to improve her living conditions, doing a thousand things to make their travels to Stormwind easier for a noble lady with no experience of living rough. He fashioned strong, protective barriers of sharpened tree-boles around their camp at night so nothing could attack them, and carried them easily on his broad shoulders throughout each day’s trek. He fixed her shoes when they broke. He foraged for the choicest morsels to make their meals more exciting, and she denigrated him for every last deed. 

But despite all the insults and slander, the young half-orc needed the little human mage like air or water; the way an orc needed bloodshed or a dragon her gold. His thoughts were consumed with visions of her small, curvy form pressed in heat against him, of tasting her lips and running his hands through the strands of shining copper that curled around her shoulders. She had made matters worse earlier that day when, disgusted with her sweat-soaked, dirt-streaked robes, she had washed them in a stream then worn them dripping wet. He had tried not to look at the way they clung to her curves, accentuating the ample swell of her breasts and the soft flare of her hips. He had tried really hard, but he was after all a young, healthy male with physical needs that were going unfulfilled, and he had an attraction to her that was nothing to do with conscious thought.

There was the odd light-hearted episode that lit up Kel’dan’s day like a godray from the heavens, despite Lady Maelstrom’s best efforts. Rani had, to his delight, been practicing her magic through feats of concentration most evenings, and Kel’dan was certain she would now be able to conjure more powerful and more accurate flame strikes. He had encouraged her to try it out and throw a few fireballs around to measure her progress. Predictably, she shot his idea down. 

“Ladies do not do such things,” she said, tossing her head so that her hair flashed with fiery lights in the sun. She rode on, falling a few paces behind the striding orc, then abruptly, a dead log over to Kel’dan’s left erupted into flames, startling him. Her accuracy was much improved - assuming she’d been aiming for the log - and so great was the force of the flaming strike that the fallen tree was so much ash before they had passed it by. He turned his head to share an amused grin at her timing, but she was looking steadfastly ahead, ignoring him. 

Those rare, fleeting moments aside, the half-orc was starting to lose hope. They were barely a day’s ride out from the city now and if anything, he felt less connected to her than when they had set out. The very thought of returning to her House, of serving as champion to her and her fiancé with nothing but her scorn and derision to look forward to made him heartsick to his core. He had left his home behind three years before to seek his own path and find adventure, and - with luck - a mate, but it felt like there was nothing but sorrow for him out here now. In matters of the heart, his parents had advised him well, his mother telling him to follow his heart, his father to follow his nose. His friends had told him to follow his dick, and while he had indeed fallen foul of that instinct on the odd occasion, it had not yet led him to love, and he was starting to wonder if that was the problem here. Rani could not be making it clearer that his feelings were not reciprocated, and the racial divide between them appeared to be a huge part of the problem. He had grown up amongst an eclectic group of individuals who lived, loved and fought together, despite their varied racial backgrounds. Was it just so different out in the wider world? While he did not relish the thought of returning home, for there were good reasons he had left, it was becoming a more appealing option with every passing moment. 

They camped that night in the vicinity of a rocky bluff, and when the evening brought no relief from the day’s relentless heat, he stripped off his manica and pauldron, shed his boots and sat down to cook their meal. This appeared to amount to some unforgivable crime in Lady Maelstrom’s eyes, and she rounded on him with a look of fury.

“Cover your damned feet, orc! I do not wish to suffer your stench. And while you’re at it, cover up the rest of your stinking green skin!”

“It’s hot,” growled Kel’dan. “I’ve been walking all day and my feet are sore and in need of some cooling down.” He spoke through a clenched jaw.

Rani’s eyes lit with fire. “Then dunk them in this slop!” And with that, she knocked the cook-pot off the fire, showering his feet and legs in luke-warm water and chopped vegetables. 

Kel’dan leaped to his feet with a curse, brushing at his trousers and staring in fury at the results of the last hour’s work splattered all over him and the grass. For a moment, the orc in him rose to the fore and he loosed a tusk-edged snarl that startled his companion into retreating a few paces with a look of fear. The flash of orc-fury was gone as soon as it had arrived, but in its place was some warranted indignation. He righted the cook pot, then demanded, “Is it too much to ask for you to be polite to me? I’ve been honest and hardworking, I’ve kept you safe, and you’ve shown me nothing but venom and bile. I’m only trying to make things easier for you until we get you back to Stormwind.”

“Idiot mongrel,” shouted Rani. “What could you possibly know about what I need? I didn’t ask you to do these things for me. If you want an end to my scorn, then stop doing them.”

Kel’dan sat down heavily on a tree stump, pulled a knife and a small chunk of wood from his pack and began to whittle.

“And stop making me those stupid bits of tat!”

“This isn’t for you,” Kel’dan retorted. “This is for my mother, for when I see her again. I plan to return home when I’ve delivered you to Stormwind.”

“So you’ll resign as my champion?” Unless Kel’dan was mistaken, there was an edge to her voice.

“Isn’t that what you want? To have your fiancé as your champion instead of me?”

She blinked and prevaricated for a moment, smoothing at the wrinkles in her dirty robe, then snapped, “Of course. Now keep the damned noise down - I want to sleep.”

So he was taking the entire watch tonight on an empty stomach. That was fine with him. It made living with his decision that much easier. The half-orc turned his thoughts away from the human mage, her family and his duty and examined his latest work. In his skilled hands, the small, tear-shaped block of wood had begun to take on its future form. He had chosen it for its colour gradient, which ran from a deep reddish brown to a pale pine. Focusing on the creative task diverted his thoughts from their dark paths and stemmed the flood of bitter loneliness that threatened to engulf him. He was so engrossed in his work that his senses almost didn’t pick up on the intruders until it was too late. The tiniest crunching of a fallen leaf and the faintest whiff of an unexpected odour when the breeze strengthened for a second combined to save their lives that night.

“Rani!” he yelled, the urgency in his voice alerting his companion to the danger and bringing her to her feet almost as fast as him.

In the dim light of the fading fire, five hooded figures surrounded them, all robed in black and carrying vicious curved knives. _Assassins_. Kel’dan had noted the subtle insignia they wore and knew they were here with lethal intent. Here in the realms of men, Kel’dan often found himself forced to hold his strength in check so he didn’t inadvertently kill, but he was now assured these intruders weren’t here to rob: they were here to murder. So much the better.

“Don’t hold back,” he ordered his companion in a low growl.

Rani gave a brief, frantic nod of acknowledgment.

The attack came with speed and coordination that suggested a well-trained unit. Three came straight at the half-orc from different directions and he used fists and feet to keep them at bay until he was sure Rani was not in his swing-range. A quick glance to his rear showed she had summoned a mini conflagration in each hand and had them trained on the two that faced her. Kel’dan turned back to his own opponents and drew his two-hander with a grim smile. “It’s a good day to kill.” 

With that, Rani loosed her flames and Kel’dan swung his blade, and together they rained blood and fire on the assassins. The two moved in perfect unison, Kel’dan putting his two-hander to good use separating their assailants from vital body parts while Rani toasted the remainder in impressive shows of pyrotechnics. 

It was over quickly. Breathless, Rani turned right and left, eyes alert for further movement. Apart from the steam and smoke rising from the mangled bodies of their would-be killers, all else was still. The young woman turned to her half-orc companion, eyes alight with wonder and battle-fervour and Kel’dan savoured the sight. Her diminutive form exuded passion and spirit in equal measures, and he could not help but admire her at that moment, despite the hurt she had caused him of late. 

“You’ve never used those skills to kill,” came the astute observation. Igniting a barrel of oil and torching someone until their organs cooked were two quite different things, and Rani’s look of elation was testament to that.

Rani shook her head, her eyes still betraying the current of excitement that surged in her. Her chest was heaving with her rapid breathing and Kel’dan was hard pressed to ignore it. The human blood in him ran hot after a physical fight, the Orc blood even more so, and he had never seen her look so invigorated, or so unguarded in her emotions. It was as though a new person had emerged from her victory. The half-orc stepped towards her as though drawn by an unseen hand. He wanted with every fibre of his being to be closer to her in that moment. She did not flinch or move away, eyes still lit with that raw delight, and she laughed then, a wild expression of joy he thought never to hear from her lips in his company. The blood pounded in his ears and started to pulse in his groin as she let him close the distance between them. His free hand reached for her, still bloody from the fight, and she allowed him to pull her into his embrace, still breathing hard. She was as soft as he had imagined, and the press of her breasts against his abdomen was enough to stir his desires to fever pitch.

Abruptly, the natural order reasserted itself. Rani’s face took on its usual disdainful cast and she pushed him away from her with all her strength. “Get away from me, _half-breed_.”

Kel’dan stumbled back, nearly tripping over an assassin’s spilled innards. “Rani-” 

She glared at him.

“Lady Maels-” the half-orc broke off with a curse. “You _felt_ something.”

“Yes I did, and if you’ve any sense, you’ll keep it away from me, filthy mongrel! Do not forget the vows you made-”

“I’ve forgotten nothing,” retorted Kel’dan.

“Liar!” She summoned flames and held up her arm in blatant threat. “I am done with you, Orc. It’s barely more than a few miles now and I can make my own way from here. If you’re running off home anyway, you might as well do it now. I don’t trust you to keep his hands off me any longer, so you can just quit now like the failure you are. I relieve you of your duty as my champion, you dishonourable, worthless half-breed!”

Kel’dan was experienced enough to know that words could cut deeper than any blade, and hers were like a knife in his soul. He sat down heavily on the tree stump and watched her as she mounted the horse and rode off into the night. Long moments passed and Kel’dan found himself wishing for the first time in years to be back home amongst friends and family. He had left because the path his people espoused was not the life he would choose for himself, but the heartache he had found here in the wider world was more than he could stomach. He glanced at the mess they’d made of the camp, with spilled guts and roasted flesh strewn across the floor and he stood decisively. He had no desire to stay here one moment longer. He packed up the remainder of his things, stuffed Rani’s bag and blanket into his pack as an afterthought and strode out of the clearing. He soon came to the road and spotted the horse’s hoofprints in the soft grass. His eyes followed the path she had likely taken and he drew a hasty breath. At the base of the rocky bluff, fire bloomed in intermittent gouts that suggested a firefight. He swallowed hard. She might have relieved him of his duty, but his own bruised ego would not get in the way of ensuring her safety.

He sprinted across the distance between them, pushing himself to extremes of effort as he saw what she faced alone. Three large worgs were working cooperatively to corral her, snapping at her with their huge teeth. She had half-blinded one of them with her flames, but they were wily and often moved fast enough to avoid her offensive strikes at the last minute. By the look of the few tiny tongues of flame at her fingertips, her mana was all but exhausted. Kel’dan waded in with his sword drawn and took one of them down immediately, spreading his limbs wide and providing a defense while Rani recovered. His eyes were darting between the two remaining creatures, deciding which one to tackle next when he picked up a flicker of movement behind them. The rest of the pack were advancing slowly on the two cornered humanoids. Kel’dan cursed. Another moment and they’d be overrun. A frantic glance about him revealed a cutting in the rock about thirty feet up. It would be a tough climb, but one the worgs could not make.

“Climb!” he ordered.

Rani hurried to comply, her long robes getting in the way and fouling her movements. The half-orc uttered a curse and sheathing his sword, threw her across his shoulder. It was not easy to climb so encumbered, but with only a few hair-raising slips, he made it to the ledge. He deposited her on the ground and knelt to check the situation below. A group of ten huge worgs awaited them, snapping and growling in evident hunger, but they at least could not climb. He spotted the remains of the horse off at the side of the clearing; the worgs had focused their attention on him first. He nodded and sent a quick wordless prayer to the gods to speed the beast’s passage - he might have hated the creature’s guts but he had likely saved Rani’s life. He turned then to find they were in a larger cut in the rock than he had first thought. It was roughly ten feet by ten, with a small boulder blocking one half of the entrance where they sat, and a dead tree had fallen from the cliff above and smashed in two across the ground. Kel’dan tilted his head. It was better than some of the places they had camped.

It began to rain then, a gentle patter of large, warm droplets from the leaden sky that heralded the coming of the storm. The half-orc stood and moved to perch on the fallen log, with Rani following close behind. They sat in silence while a soft rain fell steadily, misting the evening air. Her face was unreadable. Now that the adrenaline of battle was fading, Kel’dan noticed his arm was bleeding. He pulled a metal flask from his bag and tipped a little of the liquid over the wound, grimacing at the sting. Rani watched him for a moment then huffed and moved to his side, pulling some water from his pack and cleaning the cut. She bound it with bandages, her motions swift and precise, as though to get any necessary contact between them over as quickly as possible. She might have no skill with the cook-pot, but her field-dressing was adequate.

The girl surprised him again then as she bent and made a fire out of a few chunks of the fallen tree. She had never offered to do anything of the sort while they were travelling and it was not a skill he had expected her to possess. He sat watching for a while as she coaxed sparks from the rain-soaked twigs with the few remaining vestiges of her mana, and he listened to the hungering howls of the pack below.

“Why did you come after me?” she asked presently. Her voice as hard and cold and unwelcoming as ever.

The half-orc was silent, his thoughts a veritable jumble. Despite her foul treatment of him and her relentless insults, still he cared for her, and, as much as he might wish it were different, he still wanted her. 

“I am your champion,” he said aloud. He wiped beads of water from his brow. The storm was strengthening.

“It really is that simple for you, isn’t it?” she asked, standing and pacing by the fire. “You’ve been given a job and like a mindless _drone_ you’ll do it until you’re dead - or I am.”

The rain was coming down in sheets now. A hot rain, torn from the sultry skies that brought no surcease from the heat. It hammered off Kel’dan’s metal pauldron and soaked Rani’s dress, plastering it to her form in all the wrong places. Kel’dan snorted and looked away, trying to banish the unwanted desires that were welling in him, needs he had suppressed for days without end in her company. Half-breed he might be, but the blood of mighty warlords flowed in his veins, and the scent of her sex was like a siren call, not to be denied. He strove to keep a grip on himself, but his Orcish instincts were strong, and having bled for her and slain her enemies, his blood was running hot and his resistance was waning.

Kel’dan stood abruptly and moved towards her. The flames between them had fizzled in the downpour, but the deluge did nothing to calm the fires in his veins. Her red hair clung to her head and shoulders, the curls all but gone. In the dim light, he could make out little but her huge eyes, the same copper colour as her hair, her red lips, and her hardened nipples, jutting against the thin material of her robe.

“I would do it whether you had chosen me as your champion or not,” he asserted.

“I-I didn’t choose you!” she stammered, backing up before his advance. “The _trial_ chose you. Your brute strength was what won you that position, mongrel!”

Kel’dan rounded on her, almost certain now that her insults were pure defence and deflection. She glowered up at him with a mix of defiance and barely-sustained control. He scented wet skin, blood and smoke, and there, plain as day and growing stronger, the delirious evidence of her excitement. 

“You _know_ why I came for you,” he ventured. The scent increased in strength. Her heart must be pumping double-time by now. He almost imagined he could hear it.

Rani shook her head, eyes scrunching shut, hands up before her as though to fend of his words or ready a fireball. “Don’t,” she whispered angrily. “Don’t say it.”

The half-orc closed the distance between them and grasped her wet shoulders, feeling the heat of her skin through the sodden fabric, watching the desire flare unbidden in her eyes, and the slow wash of misery that followed it.

Her hands were pushing at his chest now, her face turned away from him, eyes tightly screwed shut as though to shut out his very essence. It was utterly at odds with her musk, which had reached epic levels by now. He knew the words he needed to say, but he suspected they would only make things worse. Instead, he leaned down and kissed her, savouring her hot, slick lips, wet with rain. Her mouth opened to him almost instantly, and she pressed her soft, rain-soaked body against his, shuddering with repressed desire. Her hungering groan of need only served to thicken the erection that was already causing some serious constriction in his pants. Thousands of years of instinct would not be denied. Kel-dan lowered her to the ground.


	6. The Coming of the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUUUUUUT! Huzzah! :D And that *teeny* bit of perspective we were missing…

_Red eyes. Dead eyes._

When Rani first saw Kel’dan in Cathedral Square, she thought he was quite the most exotically handsome creature she had ever laid eyes on, and felt an instant attraction to him that was so strong she barely managed to hide it in time. When he favoured her with a smile, she thought her heart might explode from excitement and she wanted - more than she wanted breath - to return it. But she knew from heart-shattering experience it could mean only death for him and emotional torture for her, so her well-practiced reactions had come to the fore. When he appeared inexplicably at the tourney and defeated every last man for the honour of serving as her champion, she was horror-struck. Living in intimate proximity with such a creature as her bodyguard and constant companion would push the limits of her acting abilities and tear her heart to shreds. Fortunately, she knew well all the racial slurs her brother and his friends used for orc-kind, and while it would sicken her to the point of true nausea to use them, they would prove useful in maintaining a certain facade. Her ability to fool not only her brother but all those around him was one she had honed through the depths of heartache, misery and loss.

Being thrown into lone companionship over the last nine days with the object of her forbidden desires, where they must tackle tough situations with only each another to rely on had been the hardest trial Rani had ever faced. Not only was he drop-dead gorgeous, with his exotically-styled black hair, sharp pointed ears and small, fierce-looking tusks, but his behaviour and actions towards her made it utterly clear he was a noble and honourable soul, who was contrarily vicious and deadly when roused in her protection. He was nothing short of perfect - but Rani could not suffer that loss again. She would not risk his life.

The effort of constantly pushing him away when she wanted him so badly was exhausting. She had spent most of the last two weeks staving off lurid mental images of the two of them indulging their passions, and to make matters worse, she was fully aware that every time she was aroused, the half-orc could sense it. But the battle had become ten times harder in the last two days, ever since she had watched him emerge naked and dripping from the stream with her jaw on the floor. She shouldn’t have indulged herself in watching him swim, but it seemed such a harmless activity, until he’d picked up on her scent and decided to show her exactly what she was missing. And she was missing a lot. Kel’dan’s slow walk past her hiding spot had demonstrated that quite clearly, and she had ogled the play of light on his glistening muscles, rolling beneath his delicious olive-coloured skin as he moved. She had tried very hard not to look at the weaponry he was packing. She had tried and failed.

The sexual element aside, she wanted so much to show her gratitude for the million wonderful things he had done for her. He had been kindness and consideration incarnate, but instead she had forced herself to become the most unwelcoming and heartless version of Rani Maelstrom she could conjure. She had channeled the essence of her orc-hating brother and she had drawn on the very depths of her fear and grief for strength, for Rani was absolutely terrified of encouraging Kel’dan in the slightest way. She would not have another creature’s blood on her hands simply for the crime of loving her. 

The half-orc was the first person who had shown her any sort of encouragement since she had started following the Mage’s path, and at his gentle suggestions, her abilities had advanced more in the last few days than since she had first embarked on her arcane journey. Much as she loved the way her powers were growing, there was one huge, devastating drawback. Using magic required the lion’s share of her concentration, almost as much as it took to keep up her pretence of hatred towards her companion. She quickly found she couldn’t summon flames from the elements _and_ concentrate on keeping the half-orc demi-god at arms’ length, and so she took pains to ensure she didn’t practice in front of him. All had fallen apart during the thrill of her first true use of magic in combat. She had taken the life of a being who would have killed her - and the stunning creature at her side - and as a result, she had almost lost her mind. She had let him get too close, lost as she was in the thrill of victory and the wild abandon of using her fire magic in anger.

That was the last straw. Rani knew she knew she had to get away. Her defences were crumbling. If she stayed with him any longer she was just going to give in to her impulses and get him killed. She had to strengthen the illusion and be the worst version of herself she could manage. She had to break his hope. She had to make him _want_ to leave, so she’d used every biting word, every foul insult she could muster and thrown the contents of a cook-pot on him. She had been blinded by tears as she rode off. Then the damned worgs had attacked, and, like the selfless fool he was, Kel’dan had jumped back in to help her, despite everything she had done to him. 

Back in the here and now, Rani had no fight left in her. She was utterly drained from the joint efforts of pushing him away and fighting her own desires, and when he came for her and took that first kiss in the rain, holding her like he’d never let go, the last vestiges of her defence shattered. Everything was suddenly very real and her heightened senses intensified every sensation. The rain pelted against her drenched clothing, his hands burned her skin where he touched her, his hot mouth smothered hers with his passionate kisses, and the solid press of his powerful body against her own soft and ample curves felt hard enough to bruise.

When Kel’dan took her down, his actions were rough and single-minded, and he set her aflame with his need. While his lips were stealing her breath and igniting infernos in her belly, he pushed her robes up around her hips and yanked himself free of his pants. There was sudden heat and pressure against her thigh in a long, solid line. Her undergarments did not survive the encounter as thick, rough fingers tore them from her hips. He used his knees to push her thighs apart, and with no guidance from his hands, pressed directly against her cleft, nearly sliding straight in, so ready was Rani’s womanhood. Rain cascaded from his braid, dripped from his forehead and chin and ran down off his thighs onto hers. The ground was soft with it. It ricocheted off his pauldron in a series of tinny clangs.

Rani opened her eyes and saw Kel’dan’s were opening at the same instant. Noting her attention, he deepened his kiss, sending his tongue questing into her mouth, exploring and tasting her. Rani jolted, and as she did so, he slipped past her outer lips and began a slow entry, rolling his hips in wide circles as he worked his way deeper into her. All the while he kept up his deep exploration of her mouth with his lips sealed against hers.

The movement of his hips strained her to her limits. Already stretched by his very much full-orcish girth, his movements pushed at her insides as he sank into her. He began to withdraw and Rani uttered an involuntary cry of denial and grabbed at his back to stop him. She felt him smile against her lips, the tusks at the edges hard against her mouth. He stalled his retreat and drove his hips forward slowly to bury himself in her to the root. Rani tried to break the kiss to draw in the gulp of air she so desperately needed but Kel’dan wasn’t giving an inch. He also hadn’t moved, effectively pinning her to the ground with lips and cock. She gave a few strangled gulps, wriggling futilely beneath him. Presently, he relented and raised his head, allowing her to draw in lungfuls of air. Instead of withdrawing, Kel’dan strained forward again until he met resistance. His member was throbbing inside her now, buried so deep in her tight slit she could feel his pulse.

The rain hammered down relentlessly. While her face and body were mostly sheltered by the half-orc’s huge form, water was pooling beneath her and Rani suspected it wouldn’t be long before her hair was floating in it. Kel’dan pulled his hand from the muddy puddle forming beneath them, growled in annoyance and, holding her small form tight against him, he levered himself to his feet. He turned at once and slammed her against the rock wall, holding her with her legs dangling a few feet from the ground, pinned in place by his impaling cock. Rani sucked in a shuddering breath as he hoisted her leg to his waist and leaned his other hand on the wall next to her head, and with no further ado, the half-orc began to drill her mercilessly. 

Rani turned her face to the sky, feeling the hot rain on her face, rebounding from her eyelashes and splashing on her lips, and watching the pewter clouds above light up with electricity. In some ways, this had been inevitable. It had been getting harder and harder to keep him at arms’ length. The half-orc had shown himself to be so honourable, despite his obvious attraction to her; he was funny and kind, and could not do enough for her. She had absolutely adored the little wooden figures he had made for her, and it had killed her inside to throw the items away while he watched. But all had a purpose, she reminded herself as her mind flashed back to another time.

_Orc skin against hers. The smell of oil and steel. Plans to flee Stormwind together. Plans that turned to ash._

_Red eyes, dead eyes._

She had to stop this, for his sake. Rani knew she should not have let it go so far, but it was not too late: she could bring an end to it before it went any further. Her overwrought brain served her a flash image of Kel’dan lying dead on the floor of her mansion with her brother’s sword in his guts, and it was enough to spur her to action.

“S-stop,” it came out quietly between ragged breaths, and as rather less of a command than she had hoped. There was no response but Kel’dan’s harsh breathing against her ear.

“Please…”

The half-orc turned his head, forehead pressed against her temple. He did not relent or slow his thrusts. Rain ran down her dress in torrents, the swift little streams caressing her nipples through her soaked robes. 

In her mind’s eye, she saw Gnoth’s dead eyes staring glassily up at his murderer. _Red eyes, dead eyes_. Those words echoed in her brain. That was her brother’s first comment when her lover had fallen. Then he had congratulated her for luring the creature in, and she had been hard pressed not to scream in denial or throw herself at him in fury and grief, but there in House Maelstrom, she had to keep her feelings hidden. And they still were, to this day. 

Rani couldn’t live through that again. She pushed at Kel’dan’s hips in an effort to dissuade him. “Stop!”

“You don’t want that.” His voice was deep and knowing against her ear. It was true. His cock was sending a million trills of excitement through her abdomen, and her outer nerves were being massaged repeatedly whenever he hilted himself in her. She wanted him so badly but her fear for his life was causing her ever-increasing distress. Nevertheless, her climax was moments away, and if Kel’dan’s erratic breathing and accelerating thrusts were anything to go by, he was just as close himself.

But this wasn’t about what either of them wanted: it was about survival. It was about her own brother’s innate hatred of orc-kind, with half-orcs if possible sitting even lower in his esteem. With a tear escaping her eye, Rani readied a discharge of energy that would channel the elemental forces of fire. The blast she would be able to conjure with her current reserves would not kill Kel’dan or cause him lasting damage, but it would be enough to throw him from her and dissuade him from ever trying anything like this again. She looked up again at the lightning that rent the sky, at the few wisps of smoke that remained from their campfire and she drew in that elemental force. Her fingers and forearm tingled with it. She slowly moved her arm out to the side, and meagre tongues of yellow flame licked at her fingertips, partly doused by the rain. Why was this so hard? It was the simplest spell she knew. But Rani already knew the answer: her concentration was shot. The half-orc’s hot, wet, muscular form was driving her to distraction. Drawing on painful memories, she used them to imagine Kel’dan lying dead at her brother’s hand and it gave her the focus she needed.

His hips were thudding against hers now, each invasion of his cock hitting something deep inside her and his breath was coming in laboured gasps. Now. It had to be now. She summoned every last reserve of energy and concentration remaining to her, and released the flames.

Kel’dan’s hand slammed her forearm with its burning fist back against the rock just as she loosed, sending the mini-fireball screeching off in the wrong direction and impacting harmlessly on the opposite wall of the cutting. Rani blanched. She had nothing left with which to fight. She was out of mana, out of hope. Kel’dan pressed his forehead to hers, shaking his head slightly in reproof as he held her gaze from that intimate distance. Pinning her arm to the wall with one hand and keeping her thigh raised about his waist with the other, he renewed his assault on her womanhood and Rani could hold back no longer. She screamed into the storm, every muscle in her body spasming and lighting up with electricity as the half-orc’s frenzied pounding launched her into a toe-curling orgasm. The rain hammered down on her upturned face and thrummed against her nipples, enhancing every scintilla of pleasure the half-orc was giving her. His release came during hers. Rani felt him clench up, crushing her curvy form against the rock wall. He withdrew slightly then slammed into her to the hilt again, and this time Rani felt him gush inside her. He smashed his hips against hers several more times until his cum began to leak from her and run down her inner thighs. Rani was just starting to wonder how much more he had in him when Kel’dan gave one last juddering thrust and gave voice to a deep groan of relief, leaning his forehead against the wet rock.

Rani hung there, supported by half-orc arms and the solidity of the stone at her back, and let the rain wash her tears. The deed was done. She had condemned him to death if he were ever to return to Stormwind, and she herself might have a serious long-term problem to deal with. She had failed. The past seemed doomed to repeat itself, and she felt her heart sink while misery rose to claim her thoughts. Then Kel’dan’s mouth sought hers and she lost her mind in long, languourous moments of pleasure while his hot lips slid against hers and his cock, yet still hard, throbbed deep inside her. 

Overhead, thunder pealed, growing less frequent as the storm moved away. The rain slackened, and a fresh wind stirred, bringing with it the awful promise of the coming dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the second half of this chapter before I wrote anything else, and then had to do AAAAALLL the setup in the last few chapters just to get here. See, *this* is why I started the other one with smut. So much easier. XD


	7. A Cold Dawn

It was not how Kel’dan had imagined his first time with Rani - and he had imagined it more than once. In his mind’s eye, they had taken their time and explored each other’s bodies before embarking on the ultimate, intimate journey of joining, but fate had other plans. Moment by moment, the red mist that had clouded his vision and driven his actions was fading. It was rare that his orc nature took over, but even through the haze of lust, he had savoured the sweet heat of her mouth opening to his, the taste of her tongue as she responded to his fierce kisses, and the incredible tightness of her body as she squeezed him dry. With a groan of regret, he withdrew from her velvety warmth and lowered the mage gently back to the ground. She appeared whole and well, if a little unsteady on her feet. A glance at the sky showed the tempest seemed to be diminishing and Kel’dan was almost sad. He just wanted to stay here in the storm with Rani - with _this_ Rani - forever.

“I’ll see if I can make some shelter,” said the half-orc, although his tone of voice suggested he found the idea dubious. His companion gave no reply, but then none was needed. He found a small depression at the back wall of the cutting, too modest to be called cave by anyone’s standards, and with a little ingenious use of a few fallen branches and the oilskin he used to cover his pack in the rain, he managed to extend the little cubby into a shelter that would house them both. He pulled out the bedroll from his pack and laid it within, throwing the two blankets on top. It was not much, but it was better than full exposure to the elements. He turned to see Rani still standing where he had left her, hugging her upper arms, head down in the rain. He beckoned to her and after a moment’s hesitation, she ducked into the little shelter next to him.  
  
He threw one of the blankets around her shoulders and she tugged it tight, huddling as far away from him as was possible in the tiny shelter. Kel’dan reached out his arm in concern, worried that his wild lusts might after all have caused her harm. 

“Is there any whiskey left?” she asked, flinching away from him. Kel’dan withdrew his limb and dug in his pack, handing over the small silver flask. He noted that whereas on previous occasions she would have wiped the rim before drinking from anything that had touched his lips, tonight she just drank. Presently, the young mage took to shivering. While the air was humid, her dress was still wet and her skin was chilled. Cautiously, he offered her his arm once again but she shook her head and hunkered further into the blanket, refusing to meet his gaze. As he watched in befuddlement, tears began to roll down her cheeks and her face crumpled in misery. 

“Rani-”

“Don’t. Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me.” She turned away from him and lay curled up on the bedroll, weeping quietly.

The half-orc leaned back against the rock wall, resting his elbows on his knees and and his head on his hand. What had he done? He had been so sure moments ago, with the potent scent of her sexuality impelling him to rut. Their union had felt so right but - Kel’dan paused and considered, thinking back to Rani’s reactions and his face paled. She had asked him to stop - more than once - and when that failed, she had tried to use a _fireball_ to repel him. 

His breath deserted him and he felt as though his belly were flooding with ice. His every muscle strained with tension, and he was horrified at what he might have done. The half-orc squeezed his eyes shut, shame and depression seeping into his soul and filling his core. His father’s guidance on such things had been unequivocal, and the orc chief’s stern, guttural voice echoed in his head. _There’s never a need to use force. They either want you, or they don’t. Accept that and move on._ The young orc dropped his head into both hands, digging his fingers into his scalp. While his Human sensibilities provided a calming counterpoint to the primal instincts of his Orc blood, he had not always managed to balance the two. He had striven to take the best elements of Human and Orc and embody the pinnacle of each race’s lofty ideals; instead he had manifested the worst traits his Orcish - and Human - heritage had to offer.

He had failed Rani as her champion, and yet again, he had failed his father.

The rain lessened and a soft night breeze picked up. Kel’dan sat alone with his morose thoughts through the long, dark hours of the night, while Rani shut herself off from him, huddled in her blanket. Eventually, exhaustion overtook them both and they fell into an uneasy sleep.

The sun was staining the windswept clouds with inky violets and muddied brass when Kel’dan woke. The sound of hooves and male voices raised in alarm reached his ears and he staggered out from the little tent to see Rani standing at the edge of the cutting, hidden from the riders behind the fallen rock at the entrance. She turned to him, and her face, though pale and dirty, had regained its unfriendly, haughty cast. 

“My brother is here.” It took Kel’dan a moment to process that, but then he recalled that they were not far from Stormwind. They would still have local patrols out looking for their stolen Lady.

“I am leaving now, _half-breed_ , and if you value your skin, stay away from me. Go home, go live in a cave or under a rock. This life is not for you.”

“Rani…” he began, stepping towards her.

“Lady Maelstrom,” she corrected. 

He noted a glimmer of flame at her fingertips and he stopped. He had seen first-hand what happened to the assassins and he liked his organs uncooked. “Last night…”

The mage curled her lip at him. “You broke your oath as my Champion.” 

He shook his head and moved towards her, wanting to apologise, to take away the hurt, to rekindle the connection they had found in the storm. Rani let him approach then dropped her burning fist and kicked him hard between his legs, sending him to his knees in blinding agony.

“Stay down,” she hissed. “I am leaving now, and if you’ve any sense, you’ll not show your face in my city again as long as you live. If you do I - I’ll tell my brother that you-” She broke off, her jaw working as though she were struggling with the words. “That you _forced_ me.”

Her voice cracked with strain as she spoke, then she whirled from him and strode off without a backwards glance to make her way down the cliff. Kel’dan knelt on the floor of the cutting trying not to vomit from the blooming pain in his groin. He leaned back against the rock at the entrance, drawing in laboured gasps and pulling at his trousers reduce the pressure on his aching balls. His ears twitched as snatches of conversation floated up to him on the morning air.

“Rani! Help her down!”

“You’re safe…”

“… dead horse… feared the worst…”

“…good to see … beloved…”

“…orcs … escaped…”

He twisted so he could peer down at the scene below, where he saw Sol Maelstrom and the man who would have been champion assisting Rani’s descent. As he watched, the mage threw her arms around her fiancé’s neck and kissed him. Kel’dan leaned his forehead against the cold rock, the pain in his balls now matched by the ache in his heart. Her laugh floated up to him on the breeze, a high, joyful sound that he had heard but once in all their long hours together. He drew a shaky breath. It was far better that he leave now: she was safe and happy with her fiancé and her family, and he had abused her faith and trust in him. At that moment, Sol Maelstrom tilted his head to scan the rock wall, and Kel’dan ducked down out of sight. For a moment, he was gripped by the need to descend and face the consequences of his deeds, but he recalled the hard look in Sol Maelstrom’s eye when he had made him her champion and he suspected only death awaited him at the bottom of the rock slope, regardless of whether Rani decided to carry out her threat. 

Kel’dan listened as the party mounted up again and cantered off in the direction of the city. When the sound of hoofbeats had faded into the distance, he opened his hand. In his palm lay the gift he had been intending to give Rani this morning. It was a tiny representation of a flame, worked in intricate detail into the multi-hued wood. 

Kel’dan had never really known what he wanted from life, except that his was not the path of the conqueror. While he loved the wild vistas of the world his early life had opened up, he was at his most content when he was exploring, immersing himself in different cultures, and making things from wood. He had spent quite some time recently up at Thunder Bluff, helping the Bloodhoof Clan defeat an invasion. While in their company, he had made them several beautiful miniature totems from wood, adorning them with mesmerising patterns he burned into the surface with the heated tip of an old dagger. At his request, they had tattooed some of those designs onto his forearm and chest, and he had been incredibly impressed with their mastery of the art given that they themselves usually only used paint. It made the old tattoo of a wolf, imprinted on his skin when he was still young, look crude and childish by comparison. But it was a reminder of his heritage, and a life that could yet claim him.

His thoughts came full circle. He had betrayed his Lady’s trust in her champion in the worst possible way, and he was an oathbreaker, the lowest of the low. If he had feared going home before, he wanted it ten times less now. His mind was made up. He would return to Thunder Bluff, lose himself in hard work, and spend the rest of his life in penance for his foul deed. With his ears flopping dejectedly, Kel’dan rose to leave Stormwind vale, vowing never to return.

By now, the rain had stopped and the air was fresh and clean, cooler than it had been in many long days. As he reached the base of the bluff, he glanced across to the far side of the road, in the direction of the clearing where they had originally planned to camp. There were still five dead assassins in that camp, and unless Sol and his men had already scoured the site, there was potentially some loot to be had. His uncle would be appalled: it was the second rule of combat. _First, kill them all, then loot them all._ The thought brought a wan smile to Kel’dan’s lips, despite his sadness. And so he set to work, taking one of the curved knives they all wielded, and rifling through pockets until he had turned up a handful of coins and a thick, folded paper, along with a couple of vials of unknown liquid and a few trinkets.

Pocketing the money, he opened the paper with one hand, and dug around in his pack with the other, seeking to lighten the load and make room for his new loot. Rani’s blanket came out first, and his attention was instantly drawn to it. It would still hold her scent. He stopped with it half-way to his nose then dropped it onto the wet ground. He needed a clean break. He rummaged deeper and found the small cloth bag she had used to stow the blanket and a couple of other items she had found along the way. He turned his attention back to the note as he pulled out the bag and he froze. The contents of the letter with its orders and House seal changed everything, and there was something small and hard in Rani’s bag, several somethings in fact that clunked together as he withdrew it. Puzzled, he delved inside and pulled out four small wooden items he instantly recognised. 

“…the fuck…?” he whispered. Kel’dan wasn’t sure which item caused more consternation.

In the palm of one hand lay the little figures he had made for Rani - but she had thrown them away. He had seen her do it. Somehow, she had reclaimed them and stashed them in her bag. But why? And more importantly, _how_? Kel’dan gave a sigh of realisation as he made the connection: all those tediously long morning water breaks when they had only just left camp suddenly made sense. She’d been sneaking back to retrieve his gifts. His fingers slowly curled around them as his perspective changed and his heart picked up a more hopeful beat.

The information he held in his other hand, however, had far more dire and far-reaching consequences for both him and Rani.  
  
The half-orc lurched to his feet, energised and alarmed by his discoveries, and he snapped his head in the direction of Stormwind. There was no time to lose.


	8. Homecoming

Gulls soared in the late morning sunlight, keening as they circled the glittering towers of House Maelstrom. Rani watched them absently through the arched windows of the sunlit atrium, distracted and unable to focus on the conversation for more than a few minutes at a time. While it directly concerned her future, every time her concentration waned, she was back in the storm, being pounded into oblivion by a certain half-orc who, if either of them had any sense, she would never see again. The unwanted visions brought with them an odd mix of desire and misery which must have shown on her face.

“Rani? Are you even listening?”

The mage shook her head to dispel the image of Kel’dan’s exotic features and battle-hardened body and, with long years of practice to fall back on, expertly dissembled.

“Forgive me, Sol. It’s been a trying few weeks. I need some time.”

Her brother nodded his understanding. The tale she had spun had included several elements of truth, but omitted certain inconvenient facts that might cause trouble for either herself or her half-orc friend. Both Sol and her fiancé, Brand, were aware that Orcs from the village south of Stormwind had absconded with her in the middle of the night and imprisoned her for some as-yet-unknown reason. They had all speculated that perhaps they had planned to sell her into slavery, but at the moment, there was no way to confirm the creatures’ intent. Sol and Brand also knew that she had escaped with the aid of her fire magic and had made her way back north to the outskirts of Stormwind, where she had been hiding from a pack of worgs when they found her.

“You may take your leave shortly,” said Sol. “I regret that I must detain you longer now, but I want to talk while all is still fresh in your mind.”

Rani inclined her head. It was a reasonable request by Sol’s standards.

“So it was your … _magic spells_ … that enabled you to escape? You had no other help?” Rani was aware of her brother’s opinion on her choice to follow the Path of the Mage, and he made it clear in his tone. 

“The other prisoners were a helpful distraction while I fled,” offered Rani. She had pondered on the way back to Stormwind whether to mention Kel’dan at all, and had decided against it.

Sol and Brand exchanged a glance. Brand cleared his throat. Rani noted he still favoured his right knee and it brought back memories of the tournament, where Kel’dan had humiliated and beaten him. She blinked away the image before her face betrayed her thoughts again. She neither hated Brand, nor was she overly enamoured of him, and she rather suspected the feeling was mutual. While they were not blood relatives, their family ties were close enough that Rani was a little uncomfortable at the match. 

“The horse we found at the base of the cliff where you were hiding-” began Brand, clearly embarrassed at what he was about to say.

Rani’s stomach plummeted. Kel’dan would of course have taken one of the House mounts, and Brand would know that.

“It was the one your Champion took when he rode out.” The two men looked at her expectantly. Suspicion was mounting on Brand’s features, but Sol’s were, as usual, unreadable.

Rani brushed at her filthy robes, surreptitiously drawing attention to the fact that she had not been allowed to change or bathe or rest since her ordeal. “I found it wandering alone in the forest while I was making my way back.” She fixed Sol with a sneer that conveyed distaste at an unsavoury thought. “I assume the half-breed hasn’t returned to the city then?”

“No. We sent him out with the rest of the search parties, but we’ve had no word since-”

“What did you expect?” demanded Rani, throwing herself into the familiar role of the Orc-hating Lady Maelstrom. There was a good opportunity here to highlight their failings and derail their line of questioning, and she intended to capitalise on it. “I’m frankly shocked that you allowed an Orc to enter the tourney, and I’m still waiting for a satisfactory explanation as to how your actions allowed a _monster_ to be left in charge of my safekeeping!” Sol’s face retained its emotionless cast, but Brand looked thoroughly chastised. “Had Brand been made Champion as planned, those animals would likely never have made it to my chambers, let alone dragged me through the forest and locked me in a stinking cage!”

Sol finally reacted, taking a step back and staring in consternation at Rani’s hands. She glanced down to see what had so perturbed him, to find her fists aflame. She was as surprised as her brother. She hadn’t intended to summon fire, and she’d certainly not been concentrating on the element with the amount of effort it normally took to manifest flames. 

Sol advanced towards her, hands raised in a mollifying gesture. “Extinguish your fire, sister. You’re safe now.” Rani let him stew for a moment, taking a moment’s pleasure in her rebellion, in making the stoic Sol Maelstrom nervous at the powers of a mere _girl_ , then complied.

“I just want to make sure we understand the facts,” he said. “We have kept you past what is reasonable, sister, but there are just a couple more things we need to discuss. Brand and I have been talking and we want to bring the wedding forward.”

Rani blanched. She had almost forgotten about her impending nuptials. “Why?” she asked.

“Given the unrest your kidnap has caused, I think it’s important we bring House Balnor in alignment with ours without further delay,” Sol replied.

Rani could say nothing aloud, but she knew her brother well and saw through his thinly-veiled schemes. Brand’s people hated Orc-kind as much as Sol did himself, and formalising their alliance would make it easier for the two Houses to go to war with the inhabitants of the southern village who had kidnapped her. She could say nothing of her theories aloud, however, so she asked, “And what is the other matter?”

Sol closed the distance between them and took her hands in his with a placatory smile. “You will soon be the Lady of Houses Maelstrom and Balnor. A great deal of responsibility will rest on your shoulders.” Rani shrank inside. She knew what he meant: churning out heirs. But it was not unexpected. Rani had always known that what was between her legs would determine her future, and she had a responsibility to the House as its only female to give birth to the next generation. She had long ago accepted this and would not shirk her responsibility. Sol was not done, however, and continued: “And everything you do, everything you are will be scrutinised in the public eye.”

Rani tilted her head. She didn’t know where he was going with this line of rhetoric.

“You will of course abandon the Path of the Mage.”  
  
Something inside Rani began to boil with incandescent fury, and it took as much concentration as it normally took to conjure flame to prevent it from erupting. “Why?” The demand came out rather more angrily than she had hoped, issued as it was from between gritted teeth.

Sol chuckled and spoke as though explaining some quite elementary concept to an unruly child. “It was all very well to indulge yourself with childish pursuits when you were a maiden, but your responsibilities will leave no time for the dedication required…”

“And if it doesn’t interfere with my duties-?” interrupted Rani.

“Then you will be a poor mage and a poorer matriarch,” Sol finished for her.

“No-one need ever know-” she insisted.

“That’s final, Rani. As Lord of House Maelstrom, that is my edict. The matter is closed.” While Rani stood stock still in rage and confoundment, Sol assigned some servants to see to her immediate needs and dismissed her.

Rani walked back to her quarters in a daze. She let the servants complete their tasks, furnishing her with food, fresh clothing and a hot bath, but her mind refused to focus. Mere hours ago, she had been indulging in wild passions with a creature that embodied the pinnacle of her physical and emotional desires, and now she would be married off and expected to spend the next twenty years producing offspring with a man who was practically family, and all without the outlet of the addictive thrill she had recently discovered in her fire magic. 

Her own woes aside, Sol’s plans to unite the Houses earlier than planned gave her cause for concern. It was clear to her that he plotted a campaign against the Orc stronghold in the south. The very existence of the place had rankled him for years, and now he had a viable motive to mount an attack. Sol had been incensed at the changing tides of opinion in recent years. In his youth, he and his friends would hunt and kill lone Orcs for sport. In those days, one could do that in public and be lauded or at least not punished for it. When Stormwind joined other human Capitals in becoming a more inclusive and enlightened city, Sol and his friends just moved their activities away from public scrutiny. Lord Maelstrom had never really come around to the newer, progressive way of thinking. His were the old ways, the old hatreds, and here at last was an iron-clad reason to bring those old racial prejudices to the fore again. 

Bathed and dressed, Rani sat down on her bed and set to brushing the two-week-old tangles from her hair. Never had her brother’s racial hatred been more clear to her than the fateful night when he and his friends had killed her lover, Gnoth. Sol had been so pleased at the opportunity that presented itself that he had actually thanked her for luring the creature to them. Poor Gnoth had been standing below her window with a gift for her when they ambushed him. Terrified of Sol’s wrath, she had spent every moment of every day since acting the part of the Orc-hating Lady Maelstrom, and she would now marry one of his equally racist friends. It was an unenviable position, but one Rani felt she could not avoid. Her duty, first and foremost, was to the House, to carry on the family line - which brought her to her latest problem. She resolved to visit the apothecary in the city on the morrow and put paid to her worry that she might cuckold her husband-to-be. 

Her hand stilled, the hairbrush still held against her head. Something inside her was breaking. While her time on the road had been physically taxing and uncomfortable, in her mind’s eye she imagined a version of events where she hadn’t had to hide her feelings from the handsome young half-orc. How different that journey would have been, and the skein of her future might now be woven in quite a different design. It was an impossible reality, and envisioning it only brought misery. Rani already knew she would compare every sexual experience she ever had to that one night in the storm when her Champion had given her everything. How could anything ever compare to the sensation of being held effortlessly aloft by slick, muscular arms, the wash of hot rain on her skin, the press of cool rock at her back? How could anyone compete with the taste of his lips, the rough brush of his tusks, the pure heat of his war-hardened form and the animal lust he shared with her?

It had to be this way, she told herself. If Kel’dan showed his face in Stormwind now, he would be punished for desertion thanks to her story, and if Sol Maelstrom ever actually found out what they had done, she knew with utter certainty that her brother would have himself a hunt. She had done the right thing, she concluded. It was easier to let Kel’dan think he had done her wrong and keep him away from her with shame and guilt. But the truth was the wonderful creature _had_ done nothing wrong, and the knowledge he would be suffering from her harsh words and insinuations broke her heart. Rani dropped her face into her hands and wept. 

A breeze blew in from the curtained doorway that led out onto the balcony, and Rani raised her head: a change of view might offer a change of perspective. The arched portal framed a hazy blue sky and the gauzy white drapes fluttered against the tall figure of the half-orc silhouetted in the opening. Rani blinked through her tears, wondering for a moment if she had conjured the vision of her Champion through the strength of her thoughts alone. She was exhausted and overwrought, and she had heard stories of people hallucinating whilst in agitated states of mind.

The moments ticked past and the vision did not evaporate. A number of thoughts occurred to Rani then: he had followed her here despite her warnings; if Sol found him here he would kill him; if she didn’t send him away now, the longer he stayed, the harder it would be for her to rebuff him. She had to be consistent. She needed the Rani Maelstrom he was used to. 

“Get out, Half-breed! Did I not make my warning clear?” she snapped. Her voice was thick with tears and she could not quite muster the level of fake venom he was used to, but it would have to do.

Kel’dan did not reply. He stepped forward into the room and opened his hand to show her the figurines she had retrieved during their travels. Rani kicked herself mentally. She had not thought to take them with her. 

“I found these in your pack, Rani. You went back for them. Why?”

Rani scoffed, thinking on her feet. “I thought I could sell them and buy some decent food instead of that slop you kept making. Now get out!”

Her words were having no effect on the half-orc. His expression was calm and composed, with just a hint of a new confidence. Armed with the knowledge of what she had done, he was now shielded against her lies. Rani cursed her sentimentality. She had betrayed herself with her foolish impulses.

Kel’dan closed his fingers around the figurines again and took a deep breath, his face and stance portraying a perfect picture of contrition. “I'm deeply sorry for what I did to you, Lady Maelstrom. I regret it with every bone in my body, but you can’t stay here. If you will put your trust in me again, I will prove myself worthy of it. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, see you safely there and leave you with friends, if that’s what you want.”   
  
Rani looked at him askance. What a strange thing to say. “Why would I want to leave, greenskin? This is my home, and my House. I am safer here than anywhere in Azeroth. Why would I go anywhere - especially with you?” 

He took another few steps towards her, and Rani’s heart skipped a beat at his proximity. She hid it well. 

“You need to read this.” 

Initially disinclined to comply, Rani’s curiosity was piqued by her own House seal on the bottom of the note he held towards her. She took it and scanned the contents. It was written in Sol’s clear, squarish script and consisted of a description of Kel’dan, with an amount to be paid on confirmation of his death. That part was of no great surprise to Rani. What was of more concern was the part that ordered her own death if she was found in Kel’dan’s company. But why would he send assassins after her? Her first thought was that he planned to frame the half-orc for her death and then use her murder at the hands of a ‘greenskin’ to stoke the flames of hatred and incite his friends to murderous revolt. She dropped the hand holding the note against the bed, stunned by the revelation. She knew Sol had a deep-seated hatred of Orc-kind, but she had not thought he would stoop to such depths to cultivate the circumstances needed for war.

“Rani?” The half-orc was standing mere inches away from her now. He had risked everything - yet again - to come to the city despite her warnings, and tell her that her life was in danger. Damn his luscious green hide.   
  
“He'd hunt us,” said Rani softly. “He has friends - and he’s not above hiring paid assassins, apparently. We'd never be safe. No matter where we ran.”   
  
Kel’dan’s jaw dropped in an expression that was almost comical. Even with the damning evidence of both her affection and the danger her own brother posed to her life, it was clear he hadn’t been expecting her to accept it. And with that, all her barriers were now useless. The cold shoulder was not going to work on him any longer. Perhaps at last it was time for the truth.

Rani swallowed as she made her admission. “You’re not the first.”

“First what?” asked Kel’dan.

“Orc.”

She watched the realisation wash over him, his expression fading from surprise to the beginnings of an understanding. 

“My brother killed him in front of me. At first I thought he had made a mistake, that maybe he thought Gnoth meant me harm - but even when I screamed at him to stop, he wouldn’t.” Rani paused, mastering her emotions before continuing. “I can’t live through that again. I knew if I let you in, I would have another death on my hands. So I pushed you away.” 

Rani could not meet his gaze, though she knew he was staring fixedly at her. The bed moved as he perched next to her on the edge and her heartbeat skyrocketed. This close, she could feel the heat emanating from him, scent the leather and dust and sweat and oil, and it was utterly intoxicating. The half-orc took her hand in his and turned it over, palm up. He laid the figurines on it and closed her fingers around them, sealing them in place with his hand over hers. He slid his free arm about her shoulders tentatively, and she leaned into his embrace, taking comfort from his gently stroking fingers. He reached up his other hand and curled it about the side of her neck, brushing his thumb against her jaw.

“Rani…” 

That way he intoned that single word evoked everything he felt for her, and it demanded a response. She realised then she had never spoken his name aloud, and had only ever used insults to address him. The movement was as natural as breathing, and before she had the chance to sound more than the first hard ‘k’ of his name, she had lost herself in another of his intense kisses. For a few brief moments, nothing existed but the wet heat of his mouth, the dry graze of his small tusks against her cheeks and the burn of his hands on her skin. Knowing he would be fully aware of her body’s acute reactions to his touch, Rani forced herself to break the clinch long before she was ready to do so.  
  
“You’re an idiot,” she scolded him gently. “You shouldn’t have come back here.”

The half-orc chuckled, relief flooding his features at the teasing note of her reprimand. “What was I supposed to do, carry on my merry way knowing your own brother had sent assassins after you?”

“But after what I said… the way I treated you…”

“I may be an idiot, and a half-breed,” he paused while she shook her head in embarrassment. “But I am still _Orc_. The will to fight for what I want is in my veins.” He clenched his fist and brought it to the centre of his chest to emphasise his point. “Besides, I know you now, Rani Maelstrom. You can’t hide yourself from me any more.”

She smiled and gripped his hand. “But where would we go?” Her question was laced with the depths of hopelessness she felt. To her surprise, he had an answer.

“Thunder Bluff. I have friends there.”

“The _Tauren_?” she spluttered. 

“Get away from her!” The furious yell came from behind them and had the two of them on their feet instantly. Sol Maelstrom stood in the doorway with a dress laid across his arms. It was made of ivory silk and had elaborate metal embellishments around the shoulders and chest, evocative of the vortex their family had taken for their sigil. It was, no doubt, her wedding dress. Rani’s lip curled. The design was stunning, but the robe was armoured. As a mage, it would foul her powers, which was probably her brother’s intent.

Kel’dan stepped a little way in front of Rani, partly obscuring her from her brother’s view. He shook his head slowly in warning. 

“You’re not her Champion any more, orc. You _deserted_.” Rani saw her companion flinch and glance in her direction. She had not had the opportunity to tell Kel’dan what she had told her brother. He had the presence of mind not to dispute that in front of Sol, but despite the half-orc’s unexpected discretion, Rani was in no mood for more lies. She pushed past Kel’dan and threw the note at Sol’s feet. He stared down his nose at it, unflinching. For a moment, neither of them spoke, then Rani drew back in shock.

“You’re not even going to deny it, are you? You sent those assassins to kill us both!”

“Only if they found you _with_ him, Rani. I know your … proclivities.” Rani’s jaw fell open. Had all those years of pretence and subterfuge been in vain? 

“When we found you alone, I thought perhaps you were still _with_ us, but I see now that you never changed your colours. My orders stand.” Lord Maelstrom turned towards the door, opening his mouth to call to some unknown agent in the hallway. Kel’dan lurched into action and moved to intercept him, incredibly fast, but Rani was faster, her anger an all-consuming burn in her soul - for Gnoth, for the attempted assassination, for the years of pointless hiding. The room erupted into flames and the half-orc hit the ground while the mage let rip with the blistering force of her rage. The dress Sol had brought her caught instantly and looked for a moment like a garment wrought of flames. It burned fast and loud until only so much smoke remained and the metal adornments clanked to the floor.

Sol had caught the blast along the left side of his body, and now rolled on the ground attempting to extinguish the flames. As he did so, two assassins dressed in the same garb as those who had attacked in the woods slipped into the room and launched themselves at the two remaining occupants. Rani scorched one while Kel’dan crushed the life from the other. Seizing the half-orc’s offered hand, the mage turned to run for the balcony, but as she moved, another assassin slipped out of his hiding place next to the wardrobe and stabbed Kel’dan in the lower back. With an infuriated and slightly pained growl, the half-orc’s fist smashed the man’s head against the wall and the assailant slid down, leaving a trail of blood and brains on the stone.

Rani darted forward, distraught. “Are you hurt?” 

Kel’dan scowled and pressed his hand to the wound. “Had worse. Let’s go.”

Rani took one last look at her brother where he lay on the rich carpet, one side of his face melted and smoking. Sol Maelstrom glared balefully up at her then gave a snickering laugh and glanced meaningfully at the fallen assassin.

Rani followed his line of sight and her face fell. The blade gleamed where it had fallen on the floor, smeared with Kel’dan’s blood. Beneath the red was a vile, vibrant green.

 _Poison_.


	9. The Antidote

Kel’dan slumped forward over the horse’s neck, almost losing his seat, and Rani strained with all her might to prevent him from tumbling to the ground as it thundered past beneath them. She was successful - this time - but Rani sensed he was weakening and she fretted that his next slip would mark the end of their ride. Their flight from Stormwind had been a terrifying blur of action, haring through House Maelstrom before the alarm was raised, and fleeing at the fastest pace the injured half-orc could manage. They had paused only long enough to saddle Rani’s horse and retrieve Kel’dan’s pack from its hiding place. He had mounted with some difficulty and hauled her up behind him, then they had lost no time in galloping deep into Elwynn Forest. Their pace had slowed once they left the road but the half-orc soon started to manifest the effects of the poison, and three times in the last few minutes, Rani had been forced to try to right him when he drooped in the saddle and threatened to fall. Strong he might be, with a level of stubbornness and tenacity that bespoke his Orcish blood, but even he had his limits. Eventually, in the thick of the forest, his strength gave out and with a low groan, he began to slide from the horse’s back. Rani grabbed his waist and tugged for all she was worth, but he was more than twice her weight, and she had not the raw strength needed to hold him. With an alarmed yelp, she slid off towards the ground behind him in a tangle of flailing limbs, trying to cushion his head as he fell.

Rani pulled off her light jacket and slipped it beneath the half-orc’s head where he lay immobile on his side on the flower-speckled sward beneath a tree. She clambered across him to check for further injuries and he opened his eyes, confusion and embarrassment written all over his pained features. Rani swallowed hard. His skin was wan, and a darkness lay beneath his eyes, which were rimmed a bloody red. His lips were the colour of fire-ash and his chest hitched as he struggled to breathe. As she watched horrified, his body contorted, his muscles spasming and drawing his limbs and torso into ugly shapes as the vile liquid did its work. Rani found herself wishing for the first time that she had followed a different path and become a healer, rather than a path that enabled its follower to wield nothing but fiery destruction. She had no herb-lore, no healing abilities, and they were now several miles from the city. She hesitated to say the words, but he needed to know. Tears welled and emotion choked her as she spoke.

“It’s poison.” 

“In my pack - vials,” came the instant response. 

Eyes wide with unborn hope, Rani rummaged frantically and pulled out two vials, one containing a clear liquid, the other a substance that glowed a pale green in the afternoon sunlight. She looked at her companion and held up the little bottles in open query, panic rising in her chest. Dark blood was beginning to trickle from the corner of his mouth. They were running out of time. 

“Took them from the assassins … we killed in the forest,” he explained. His words came out in a slur and Rani was appalled at the faint, scratchy sound of his voice. “Green… probably poison. Clear … probably not…?” His voice trailed off and his eyes closed. Rani stared at the two vials. One would likely kill him, one might save him, but at this juncture, there was little choice and even less time to lose. Tilting the clear vial against his lips, she emptied the entire bottle of liquid into his mouth and hoped for the best.

Rani hovered over her charge until her legs began to ache from the awkward position, and she sat back on her heels, the vial and stopper still held in her hands. Long moments passed. The forest whispered. Animals rustled and chattered. Kel’dan did not move. By and by, she perceived the knots in his muscles relaxing and the strain easing from his face. It was better than she had hoped for moments ago, so she moved across to his back and examined the wound. It was not deep, fortunately, and if he died, it would not be from the cut itself. She grabbed some supplies from his pack, and cleaned, stitched and bandaged the shallow gash. She had sewn Sol up enough times after his inadvisable Orc-hunts, and while she had no healing magic, she could at least administer basic aid. 

A glance at the half-orc showed his chest had resumed a natural rhythm, and while his face was still pale, after she had wiped away the small trickle of dark blood, he looked a little further from death’s door and Rani allowed herself the luxury of hope. All she could do now was wait and trust that the half-orc’s inner fighter was strong enough to finish what the antidote had started. Rani did what little she could to make him comfortable, replacing her jacket beneath his head with the folded blanket from his pack and arranging his limbs in more relaxed positions.

Rising quietly, the mage busied herself with making camp, ever and anon glancing back at her companion in case he woke or worsened. She saw to her horse first, removing his saddle and securing his bridle to a handy tree branch at a good grazing spot. Then, following the example Kel’dan had set countless times in their travels together, she scoured the area for herbs and root vegetables, hoping she had correctly identified those they had eaten together, and fetching water from a nearby stream in the half-orc’s cook-pot. She left the fungi where she found them. Kel’dan did not need an accidental poisoning on top of his current predicament. 

When everything was arranged to her satisfaction, and there was nothing to do but wait for the stew to cook or the half-orc to wake, Rani sat down on the bedroll from Kel’dan’s pack and took a moment to appraise her situation. In the last few weeks, her life and her understanding of everyone and everything around her had been turned on its head, and her long-term plans had been hijacked. Some important knowledge had been gained however, which would change her outlook on the world and her place in it for good. It appeared her brother had known of her predilection for Orcs all along, and, if her suspicions were correct, he was not above using it to his advantage. She was even beginning to wonder if he had somehow orchestrated her kidnapping just to give him a reason to hunt and kill ‘greenskins’ again. On some level, she understood his hatred. Their parents had been killed in an Orc raid while they were travelling to a trade meet, and Sol had shouldered the responsibilities of House Maelstrom from a very early age, with the shadow of his parents’ murder hanging over him every step of the way. But that did not excuse his order to assassinate her, and Rani was furious at the idea of being a pawn in his designs for war.

That being said, she was more than a little concerned at her knee-jerk reaction when the truth had emerged. She had given in to her rage and almost killed her brother with barely a thought, and with none of the usual concentration required to invoke her fire-magic. He had of course forced that set of circumstances into being and so whether or not Sol had survived her attack, she felt she had been in the right. She loved her brother, or at least she loved the boy she had known, protective of his younger sister and forced to take on the mantle of adulthood far too early. Until very recently, Rani had clung to the belief that the boy she had known still resided within the dour and calculating Sol Maelstrom. She had now been disabused of that notion. Nevertheless, it gave her no small cause for concern that she had set him alight on a whim and she worried that if angered, she might do such a thing again. Rani resolved to keep a watchful eye on her fire magic for the foreseeable.

And now she and Kel’dan were out in the wilds alone, with her half-orc friend suffering from the effects of a deadly poison. She doubted his recovery would be quick - if they were lucky enough for him to recover at all - which would leave her to fend for them both in the merciless and cut-throat world outside her home city. She glanced across at her sleeping Champion. There was at least no reason to hide her feelings for the handsome young half-orc any more, but Rani knew she had treated him badly. How could he ever look at her in the way she wanted, with the eyes of a lover, after what she had done? The young mage dropped her head into her hands and wept quietly, overwhelmed with unfamiliar emotions and the tumultuous upheaval of recent weeks. After a few moments of self-indulgence, she schooled herself back into control. This was no time for such exhibitions of weakness. She was on the run - either from assassins if Sol still lived, or a murder charge if he did not - with a poisoned half-orc, and for the moment, she alone was responsible for their safety. 

Rani’s eyes were drawn again to the prone figure on the other side of the fire and she indulged herself in a lingering look. She could never have done such a thing while he was awake: the half-orc was fast to note her attention, and she had been longing for an opportunity to sate herself on the sight of him for weeks. His long form stretched out between the roots of the tree beneath which he lay, glimmering a pale green-gold in the firelight. Small, luminescent bugs hovered around his form, bringing brighter highlights to his skin as they darted around him. When on his feet, he was far taller than any of the human males she knew, but shorter and of a lighter build than any Orc she had ever seen. She admired the styling of his coal-black hair in its banded braid above its undercut, and delighted in the stubby tusks that reached half-way up his cheeks. From there her gaze was drawn to the rolling contours of his arms and chest, and the thick, squarish hand that lay across his toned midriff. Rani’s lips parted as she recalled those hands and arms holding her against the rock face in the storm and for a moment, she was lost in reverie, shaking herself back to the present when her memories caused some rapid -but far from unpleasant- physical reactions.

The recollection also triggered a guilt that settled like a lead weight in her belly. She regretted the words she had spoken to him that morning with every shard of her splintered soul. Rani remembered the appalled look on the half-orc’s face when she had led him to believe that he had assaulted her, and even now, it devastated her to know he had endured such torture as a result of her words. Given her behaviour towards him, Rani would not blame Kel’dan if he never wanted anything to do with her again, but she desperately hoped that was not the case. She vowed that she would spend the rest of their time together - however long that might be - making it up to him.

But where would her life’s path lead now? Assuming the half-orc survived and recovered, he had talked of a safe haven at Thunder Bluff, but Rani had no idea how kindly disposed the Tauren would be towards a human. She swatted her hand at a firefly that flew too close to her face and resumed her miserable train of thought. At least in that eventuality, she would be with him. But what if he didn’t make it through this ordeal? How would she face the world alone? Where would she go? She batted her hand at another firefly, jumping to her feet as it was joined by another and they began to circle her head. 

“Get away, you little-” she broke off, dancing off to one side as more of the tiny glowing insects joined in, until they were congregating around her head in a veritable swarm. Shivering in disgust, Rani ran around the tree under which Kel’dan rested, desperate to dispel them. When they continued their dogged pursuit, Rani summoned a fireball and, swearing at them in irritation, and with little regard for the direction of her blast, let loose her flames. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly throw plot points in (e.g. grabbing assassins' loot) with no idea what they're for until they actually pan out. My brain is weird. I think I'm just a plot-point-hoarder. :D


	10. The Shape of Things to Come

A celestial being wreathed in flame awaited Kel’dan on his awakening. Fire glowed in her hair and eyes and a circlet of mobile, luminescent life hovered just above her head. She was speaking to him in gentle tones, enticing him to join her. Kel’dan wanted nothing more. He reached out a hand, straining towards the fiery apparition, yearning with every drop of blood, every pulse of his heart to connect with her. His hand collided with something soft and squishy and his touch elicited a yelp of surprise, startling him to full wakefulness. As his vision cleared, the celestial vision broke apart and coalesced into Rani, her bright copper hair surrounded with a little cloud of fireflies. The mage crouched beside him, one hand over her breast, scowling at him in reproach. 

“Sorry,” he said. His voice sounded thick and slurred. “I thought you were an angel.”

Rani gave him an astounded glare. “Is that how you’d treat an angel?”

Kel’dan laughed and then stopped short as the involuntary action caused pain to lance up his back. 

“You picked the right vial then,” he chuckled, trailing off into a groan of pain.

“It would appear so, and stop laughing. You’ll split your stitches.”

Kel’dan strove to suppress his mirth, but it was hard. He was alive and alone with Rani, and best of all, she didn’t hate him. She had saved his life. He felt he had reason to celebrate, but there was one thing bothering him, a veritable quandary that demanded explanation, and he would not rest until he had the answer. 

“Why do you have a crown of fireflies?”

“They seem to like me,” muttered Rani. She was trying and failing to hide her chagrin at the little creatures’ antics. “Are you in pain?”

“Only when you make me laugh,” he teased. Kel’dan sobered for a moment, realising the sense in her advice and he took an appraising glance around, alert for signs of danger. None were present. They were in a sheltered spot beneath some trees, their horse dozed nearby and a cheery fire flickered beneath a bubbling pot from which rose smells that set his stomach rumbling. There was a scorched tree bole at the edge of the camp, still smoking, perhaps the result of Rani’s practicing, but other than that, there were no signs of trouble. The mage’s hand was on his, he noted, and he turned his over so he could grasp hers. Rani swallowed visibly.

“Nice setup,” he offered, nodding in approval. He had not expected so much from the city-born Lady, given their previous association and her blatant disaffection for anything to do with living outdoors. 

“I watched you make camp enough times,” Rani replied, fussing with her skirts in mild embarrassment at his praise. “I made some food…” her face twisted dubiously. “But I’m not sure it’s edible.”

As Rani moved to stand and serve him some of the questionable grub she had prepared, Kel’dan maintained his grip on her hand, pulling her back down beside him. He searched her face for the answers to the questions he still had, whose answers had been hinted at, but never spoken aloud. The young woman met his gaze steadily, but with such sadness and regret in her eyes that Kel’dan feared another rejection.

“I’m sorry,” began Rani. “For the way I treated you, for all the things I said. It probably doesn’t make it any easier if I say I didn’t mean them - but please know that I didn’t.” Kel’dan listened as she rambled on along the same track for a while, repeating the same concepts as though trying to find an adequate way to express her regret. At length, she fell silent, eyes on him, waiting for his reaction. He let her squirm for a while. He owed her a little torment at least.

“I know,” he said presently. “I’ve always known. Even when you called me ‘half-breed’, even when you made me walk in the heat, though my feet ached and my loins were cooking.” He paused while Rani blushed scarlet with the reminders of her misdeeds. “Even when you threw our dinner over me and made me sleep on the cold ground while you hogged all the blankets, I knew.” He watched her expression turn quizzical at the emphasis he put on that word and smiled to himself. He had no explanation for it himself beyond Orcish folk-tales, and hazy half-held beliefs, and so he left it at that. It was enough that they had reached an understanding.

The mage gave him a small, shy smile that was as meat and bread to a hungry orphan, and Kel’dan decided he would go through it all again - endure all the insults, let his balls cook, get covered in half-stewed vegetables - just to have her smile at him like that. Rani gave him a nod of acknowledgment and attempted to rise. He pulled her back down again. The mage raised her free hand in mock outrage, gesturing at the pot behind her. 

“You need to eat!”

“There is something I need more,” he confessed. Keeping a watchful eye on her expression and ready to pull back if she was not receptive, Kel’dan pulled Rani in for a kiss. Having her meet his lips with a warm, willing mouth made him happier than almost anything else he’d ever experienced.

Almost. 

With that kiss to sustain him temporarily, he released her and she rose to dish up the food she had prepared for him, handing it across and watching him in trepidation. 

Kel’dan took a mouthful and swallowed it down. His face twisted in distaste and horror and, coughing, he croaked, “Do we still have any of that antidote?” 

The mage was on her feet and tearing open his pack faster than he would have thought possible, hurling items out right and left in an effort to locate more of the life-saving potion. Unable to hold back any longer, the half-orc burst out laughing at the success of his ruse, only to break off and groan as pain speared his lower back. 

Wearing a look of righteous annoyance, Rani stamped across to loom over him with her hands on her hips and then pointed at his injured back. “ _Stitches_.”

Kel’dan quashed his amusement with some effort and devoured the food, professing it to be good, and they fell to chatting. The conversation flowed smooth and easy now that they were free of the lies and the hidden truths, and the time passed swiftly as the two, who had spent countless hours together alone, finally started to get to know one another. When the night turned cooler, Rani joined him to sit with her back against the tree, and they shared the one remaining blanket across their legs. Talk turned eventually to their travels together, and Kel’dan took great delight in reminding his red-faced companion about the time she had thrown his drying-cloth into the puddle the horse had used as a toilet.

Rani cupped her face in her hands, peering at him through her fingers while he tried to hold in his amusement. “I’m so sorry. How can you ever forgive me? I acted like a horse’s arse.”

Given the nature of the misdemeanour in question, Kel’dan lost control and laughed hard at her reply, wincing perhaps a little less this time as the guffaw pulled at his stitches. The pain was already easing and little by little, he could feel his strength returning.

“Good job that was _after_ you decided to spy on me naked. I’d have had nothing to cover myself otherwise.” He wasn’t sure it was possible for a person’s face to be any redder than Rani’s was at that moment in time, but it did his heart good to know that he had not been wrong in his judgment of the situation. At length, he relented, and put a stop to his teasing while his thoughts turned to more recent events.

“So no regrets about leaving Stormwind?”

Rani shook her head vehemently. “I’d rather be out here and beset by fireflies,” she said glaring at the hovering swarm. “Than at home living a lie, and waiting for Sol to decide whether to assassinate me.”

Kel’dan fidgeted for a moment, then asked, “And your financé?”

“Not a match I would have chosen myself,” she replied. Her face was a moving play of shadows and light beneath the little glowing creatures that had cleaved to her. “He was practically blood.”

The half-orc raised an eyebrow at that. He had heard of such customs being rife among old human families and he - in common those with whom he had grown up - found such customs bizarre. Not only did finding a mate from outside one’s social circle bring diversity, it opened up opportunities for trade, cultural exchange and growth. The conversation stalled and Kel’dan worried that perhaps he should not have brought up the subjects of her brother and fiancé, but presently, Rani rummaged in her jacket pocket and brought out the four figures he had carved for her. He shook his head, astounded at the significance of such innocuous-looking chunks of wood. Were it not for them, he would never have discovered her true feelings for him, would never have returned to Stormwind, and right now, Rani might be on a path to a very different life. Given that Sol Maelstrom had assassins both inside and outside Rani’s chambers during their encounter, it was fair to assume that she might even have been dead.

“Tell me about these,” her soft request stirred him from his dark thoughts and he took them from her small, delicate hands.

“They’re characters from stories my mother used to tell me when I was young,” said Kel’dan. His face took on a wistful smile as he described them. “This is Darius, and this is Mani,” he turned each figure to face his companion as he named them. “They saved the last living dragon. And this is Nax, and this is Kel. They were lovers from different races who wouldn’t let the laws of their people keep them apart.” The half-orc felt his cheeks flush with heat as he spoke, but Rani, for the moment at least, was more interested in the style than the substance. 

“They look like totems,” she commented, turning her head to the side to examine them from another angle.

Kel’dan nodded agreement. “I’ve spent a lot of time with the Tauren. Almost everything I make comes out like a totem at the moment. I’m easily influenced when it comes to my art.” He paused, heart beating faster in nervous anticipation, and dug in the pouch at his belt. “Which is why I made this…”

Hesitantly, haunted by the feelings of rejection that had assaulted him every time he had tried - and failed - to present the young woman with a gift, he pulled out the multi-hued flame he had carved for her. Bolstered by the knowledge that she had, in truth, loved the little carvings he had gifted her previously, Kel’dan handed the small chunk of wood to Rani.

The mage’s mouth fell open in a gasp of delighted surprise, glancing repeatedly from the little wooden flame to Kel’dan’s face. “You made fire out of wood!” she exclaimed.

The half-orc could not stop the grin that spread across his face, humbled and excited in equal measures by her reaction. “I thought the mix of colours would make a good impression of a flame.” He swallowed, rallying his feelings for the young mage and trying to put them into a comprehensible phrase. 

“Whenever I see fire, I think of you.”

Kel’dan instantly regretted his words. They brought to mind the time Rani had tried to stop his unwanted advances with a discharge of fiery energy. The mage was right. He was an idiot. One stupid gift was not going to make up for what he had done to her. He lowered his head in shame.

“I hope one day you can forgive me for what I did.” Kel’dan couldn’t look at his companion, not wanting to see her expression change from delight to disgust or fear. But she deserved an explanation, weak as it might be. 

“I let my Orc nature get the better of me, and while I know that’s no excuse - I should have better control of my impulses - please believe I … I never meant to force you.”

Rani shook her head and exhaled to the night sky, leaning her forehead against her hands. The little cloud of fireflies dispersed at her movement, secreting themselves in various places around the little clearing. “I said that to try to drive you away. I was so scared that you’d end up coming back with us to Stormwind - and being my Champion - and then running into you and not being able to help myself - and getting caught - and Sol killing you just like he did Gnoth.” Rani puffed out a breath and shook her head. “I was trying to keep you safe.”

Kel’dan’s heart began to pound in his chest, thrumming in his ears like the beat of a war drum. If what she said was true, then there was hope. There might be a long road ahead, but perhaps one day-. Her hand on his face made him jolt in shock. Rani had turned towards him and she was pulling his face around to look at her. Sudden warmth flooded his cheek as she pressed close to him, breathing against his skin, touching her fingers to his chin, and then to his lips with a warm, feathery touch that started his heart beating double-time. 

“So no. You didn’t, and I’m sorry I ever made you believe that.” She lowered her eyes and smiled, a blush rising to her cheeks. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

Kel’dan could hardly believe what was happening. In direct contrast to all the bewilderment their earlier encounters had caused, this time there was no confusion, no harsh words, no scornful glares to mar the physical messages she was conveying. Her scent coiled through his brain, rife with excitement and promise and causing instant reactions in his groin. Rani kissed him then, a little awkwardly because of their relative positions, but nonetheless a real, solid kiss, intensifying and deepening with every second. The pressure from her hand remained constant, holding him tight against her lips. Presently, the young woman released him and climbed carefully onto his lap, mindful of his injury, and took his face in her hands. She leaned her forehead against his for a moment, then moved back a little to meet his gaze. In her bright, amber eyes Kel’dan found naked desire and a hunger that matched his own. The half-orc swallowed hard.

Rani’s mouth sought his again and for long, satisfying moments, there was nothing but the sweet taste of her lips, the warm press of her breasts against his chest and the tantalising brush of her lower body against his straining erection. When she finally broke the kiss, both were breathing hard, and his instincts were screaming at him to take her there and then. The half-orc mastered them with some effort. He was more than just a slave to his Orc nature, and he fully intended to demonstrate that. Rani made things a little more challenging even as he made the promise to himself, as with gentle tugs and movements of her body, she clearly invited him to mount her. Cautious not to break his stitches and incur his companion’s wrath, Kel’dan lowered her to the bedroll, one arm cradling her, and, supporting himself on his forearm and knees, he raised his other hand and ran it over Rani’s voluptuous curves. Keeping her lips engaged with kisses, he slid the soft silk of her dress down, baring her upper body to his exploring hands. He traced a finger lightly around an areola in decreasing circles until Rani opened her eyes and silently willed him to touch her properly. Kel’dan was in no mood to deny her anything.

He bent towards her breast and used his tongue to trace a slow path up over the full curve and onto the gentle slope of her nipple, taking his time and dragging the wet muscle against her until it crested the tip, then pushed his mouth down over the hardening flesh until his lips enclosed it. He held it there, making little ‘o’ shapes with his mouth and watching Rani roll her head from side to side. Holding his position, he began to swirl his tongue around the pert nub, feeling it grow stiffer with every rotation. Then he added pressure, sliding his lips down and around it and squeezing as he raised his head. Rani’s hands came up to grab the back of his skull and he reveled in her enthusiasm.

He released her nipple from his mouth with a slow sucking ‘pop’ and turned his attention to the other. While in his heart of hearts he wanted to be buried in her to the hilt right at that moment, their first time together had been an expression of raw passion, of pure heat and emotion, and he wanted to show her now that he was more than a beast with an instinct to rut. Besides, he fully appreciated the opportunity to lavish some attention on the beautiful round breasts that had so occupied his thoughts of late; as did Rani, judging by her little whimpers of pleasure. When the second object of his attention had reached the same stiffness as the first, he took the former between his finger and thumb and began to roll and squeeze it, all the while besieging the other with his lips and tongue. 

Rani was beginning to buck and groan beneath him, urging him to do more, so he released her breasts and slid the dress from her, tossing it to one side. He waited until the mage’s eyes were on him again before he removed her undergarments, sliding them slowly down over her plump thighs and casting them onto the discarded pile of clothing, leaving her naked to the elements. Holding her gaze, he forged a hot, wet trail from her breasts down across her abdomen with lips and tongue. When he reached his destination, he hooked his arms beneath her thighs and lifted her pelvis from the ground, holding it an inch or two aloft. She was watching him closely now, lips parted, eyes half-lidded, in breathless anticipation of his next move. Never taking his eyes from hers, he bent his head to breathe against her sopping wet slit, watching her flinch as the air cooled her heated skin. He ghosted his mouth against her outer lips and brushed his lip against her clit as he raised his head again. Rani jerked and took several rapid breaths, still watching him intently. He extended his tongue where she could see it and know what was coming, and moved it closer to her, shortly licking in vertical lines either side of his ultimate target in movements so slow it took the space of many heartbeats to complete each motion. Rani’s legs twitched at his attentions and, sighing in pleasure, she reached down her hands to grab his head, tugging insistently at him while her fingers tangled in his long braid.

Kel’dan smiled. The sight, taste and scent of her sex had caused an erection so hard it was almost painful, and his need to sheath his cock in her once more was growing more intense by the second, but her willing reactions to his touch were as balm to a troubled mind, and just as exciting to watch. He released one of her legs and laid his palm across her soft belly, pressing his thumb lightly against the top of her mound and pulling gently, exposing her clit from its fleshy hood. He touched the tip of his tongue against it as though in greeting, then began a slow circumnavigation of its limits, avoiding direct contact with the more sensitive central nub. He repeated the action a few more times, watching Rani’s response and judging his timing. Her hips were pushing up towards his mouth and her chest was heaving. From the mewling sounds she was making, Kel’dan guessed his ministrations were keeping her on a knife edge between frustration and pleasure.

He let her hips meet empty air for a moment, then, when she opened her eyes to see what he was up to, he made full and direct contact, sucking in the tiny pink bud and laving his tongue up against it in slow, deliberate strokes. Rani cried out then, a high, shuddering wail and he knew she was close. Releasing her other leg, he stroked the middle fingers of his freed hand against her slit, coating them in her juices, then while his lips and tongue kept up their entertainment of her hardened bud, he began to work two fingers into her. Rani’s head shot up from the ground, her mouth slack, her brows peaked in consternation. It lolled as she watched him, and he held her gaze while he sank the two fingers into her until his palm was pressed against her mound. He used his other hand to hold her hips still so she didn’t smack him in the face and slowly pumped his arm, twisting his hand with every slow push and equally deliberate withdrawal until he felt her begin to convulse. He set his tongue to a rapid flicking motion, trilling it while he corkscrewed his fingers into her and Rani’s body bucked into a reverse curve, her womanhood squeezing his fingers convulsively while she cried out his name.

Not ‘mongrel’. Not ‘half-breed'. ‘Kel’dan’.

When at last her shuddering had subsided, the half-orc withdrew and cleaned his fingers and chin of her juices. He clambered out from between his companion's legs and lay down beside her, stroking his fingers along her arm while she recovered.

“I think that might be the first time you’ve called me by name,” he observed with a wry smile.

Rani rolled her head towards him, pink of cheek and grinning widely at the delirious pleasure he had just given her. “It won’t be the last.” Her face darkened for a moment. “I’m sorry. For all the names I called you.”

The half-orc chuckled and gave her arm a squeeze. “If Kel’dan doesn’t feel right now instead of ‘halfbreed’ or ‘greenskin’,” he broke off while his companion groaned in embarrassment and hid her face in her hands. “You can call me ‘Kel’.” At her curious glance, he explained, “Kel’dan is my Orcish name,and Kel is the name my human mother gave me at birth. My friends - and my folks - call me Kel. I’m only Kel’dan to them when I’m in trouble.”

Rani laughed aloud at that and it made the young half-orc’s heart skip a beat. To see her happy and relaxed in his company was more than he could ever have hoped for. He vowed to make her laugh as often as possible, and - if tonight’s activities were any sort of hint at their future relationship - to make her come even more often than that. As he lay beside her, watching her breathing slow and the flush fade from her cheeks, she trailed her fingers against his chest, moving across the sparse hair on his pectorals, and dancing lower, over the bandage at his waist, until they were dragging through the dark path that started above his belt. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and filled with unsated desires.

“What do you want, Rani?” he asked. A hunger for the young mage’s soft, yielding flesh roughened his tone. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear her say it.

“I want … this,” she whispered, pointing at him and then drawing her finger in a large circle that roughly defined his outline. “All. Now. Please.”

Kel’dan grinned. While her response might not be eloquent, it was effective, and he was heartily relieved. While he had enjoyed every second he had spent with his head between her legs, he had needs of his own and the ache in his cock was becoming more insistent by the moment. He started as his companion snapped her fingers and a tiny golden flame appeared, hovering above her curled hand. She winked at him. She was not going to try to incinerate him again. In the faint light thrown by her elemental fire, she rose to her knees, removed his manica and traced her fingers across the geometric lines of his tattoos, face lit with admiration. She enlisted his help in removing his trousers, hampered as she was with the conjured light in one hand. He watched her lips part and her eyes widen as he was freed from the tight constraints of his pants, and he savoured the change in her scent, with a tiny smidgen of fear tinting the pure sexual need she had exuded up to now. Rani maintained the magical flame right up until the second when she slipped down onto his ready cock, at which point the mage apparently lost her ability to concentrate and the light went out. 

Fireflies rushed in to replace the light of Rani’s flames, dancing around the couple as they moved together. In the mixed glow of the fire embers and the tiny pinpricks of light from the luminous insects, Kel’dan’s hands caught her hips, then moved up to support her beneath her ribs, assisting and enhancing her movements as she rocked gently on his engorged member. He raised her up easily, her head almost on a level with his, then let her slowly slide back down until she enveloped him completely, relishing the powerful constriction of her flesh around his manhood. They moved slowly, every tiny nuance of movement stirring flickers of pleasure while they undulated together, occasionally stopping to kiss. Kel’dan watched Rani’s eyes fluttering, tiny smiles lifting the corners of her mouth and, while he could not deny the mounting pleasure, and the mental comfort her enthusiasm provided, still he felt ill at ease. In his mind’s eye, they were back in the storm and he was taking her roughly, driving her to a blinding orgasm with the force and fury of his lust. Pleasurable as their current mating was, a huge part of him yearned for the raw passion, the wild abandon of that night. Kel’dan suspected it was his Orc blood essaying to gain its own satisfaction and he instantly attempted to quash it. 

Thinking that perhaps a change of position would improve matters and perhaps satisfy both sides of his id, Kel’dan rose to his knees and settled the little mage higher on his lap. He raised her to an upright kneeling position a little way above his hips and began to thrust up into her, raising his thighs off his lower legs to spear her womanhood. Abruptly, he stopped, creasing up in pain and Rani gasped in dismay.

“ _Stitches_ ,” she chided. Solicitously, she made him lie back down and stroked her small fingers across his chest and stomach. “Let me,” she said.

Kel’dan lost himself for several long moments then, concerned with nothing but the sweet squeeze of her wet heat on his cock and the beautiful bouncing breasts that almost made him dizzy as he tried to follow their trajectory. As much as Kel’dan loved seeing her like this, and sinking his hands into the soft flesh of her thighs and hips as she pumped him, some inner voice insisted _he_ should be the one making love to _her_. He felt lazy and in some way, less _male_. Kel’dan scowled inwardly. _Orcish thoughts again_. Nevertheless, in short order, Rani had them both teetering on the edge, and as the mage threw her head back, the last light of the fire and a hundred tiny fireflies setting her hair aflame, Kel’dan followed her into his own release, milked dry by her clenching muscles. 

The half-orc forced his breathing into a regular rhythm. Rani would have no idea of his inner turmoil during their tryst, and he intended to keep it that way. He had more of a battle on his hands with his Orcish instincts than he had first thought, but he had proved the master of his impulses tonight, and he would again. Rani distracted him then, tilting his chin towards her and running her soft hand across his cheek.

“That was nice.”

Kel’dan nodded. They had both found release, and the gentle, clearly consensual love-making had been helpful in assuaging his earlier fears. But his inner Orc was not satisfied and he was concerned it might, sooner or later, find a way to make its wishes a reality. He was still fretting over the idea when Rani upended everything with a further comment. 

“You don’t _always_ have to be nice.”


	11. A Place to Call Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kel'dan and Rani find a place to stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got off my arse and did an art thing this week. These things never quite come out the way I envisage them, but this is a fairly close approximation of how I see Kel’dan: https://exophile3d.tumblr.com/post/626256138237870080 
> 
> I also tried drawing him by hand, but it’s been even longer since I did analogue drawing than digital so it looks like something a 3-yr-old made. XD

Rani stirred awake a little while after sunup, shivering under the thin blanket and patting the ground next to her in search of her half-orc companion. Kel’dan cleared his throat, alerting her to the fact that he was perched on a tree stump a few feet away, and she gave a grudging smile. While she understood the need for them to take alternate watches, there was nothing she would have liked more than to wake curled in his arms, where they would warm each other beyond the need for a blanket. But they were on the run and now, more than ever, vigilance was paramount. Rani had not waited around long enough to find out whether Sol had survived her fire-blast. If he had, they could expect more assassins; if not, then potentially the city militia. The wisest course of action now was to put as much distance between them and the scene of her crime as possible.

Rani stumbled across to where Kel’dan already had a small fire going in preparation for breakfast, keeping the blanket clutched around her shoulders.

“Aren’t you cold?” she asked. He was clothed as usual in his worn leather trousers and boots, and nothing but his harness and manica to cover his upper body. While Rani had absolutely no objection to him wandering the world so attired, she did worry a little for his comfort.

The half-orc laughed and shook his head. “I’ve lived most of my life outdoors. Spent quite a bit of time in the north too. You’d hate it,” he chuckled. “In the morning it’s so cold your breath freezes and your co-” he broke off and floundered for a moment. “Your er… man-parts go into hiding.”

“Kel!” she exclaimed, trying to hide her amusement.

“So I’m Kel today? Not ‘Mongrel’?” he teased.

Rani flushed scarlet. He was not going to let her forget what she had done, and in fairness, nor should he. “If that’s acceptable?” Rani replied with exaggerated politeness.

The half-orc inclined his head graciously.

“How do you feel?” she asked presently.

“You’d know better than me,” he responded with a cheeky grin. At her exasperated sigh, he twisted around and prodded at his wound, the corners of his mouth pulling down into a moue around his short tusks. “Pretty good. Not even sore any more.”

“Don’t poke it!” Rani shucked the blanket, scrambled to her feet and hurried across to stand behind him, gently appraising the stitched gash. He was correct in his assessment: it looked dry and less angry than the previous day, and she had little fear it would fester. He healed fast, she noticed, perhaps a boon of his Orcish blood.

Kel’dan craned his neck over his shoulder to watch her. “Well?”

“You’ll live.”

“Good,” he replied, and as she stood back up, he grabbed her about the waist and pulled her into his lap. Rani shrieked in surprise, then giggled and settled herself on his thighs, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and lifting a hand to his cheek. Bright green eyes watched her every move, and this close, the heat from his bare skin warmed hers in exactly the way she needed. She examined his face, noting his colour had improved since the night before, and the dark circles beneath his eyes were fading. Fortune had favoured them with that antidote, and Rani was exceedingly glad to be here in the arms of her half-orc love rather than somewhere in the wilds alone, mourning his death. They had not talked the previous night about where their road would lead now, but she knew that no matter the path, they would travel it together. Last night had been about affirmations, demonstrations of affection, and murmured words to lay bare long-suppressed emotions. She had fallen asleep content and satisfied, with little care for what the future held. Now with the cold dawn came a return to reality and the need to plan, and to move onwards.

“So where does our path lead?” she asked.

He was silent for a while, letting his eyes rove over her features, and toying with her hair.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. Rani was taken aback and could do no more than stare at him while he spoke, thinking much the same about her companion’s exotic features. “I thought so from the moment I laid eyes on you.” He leaned in for a kiss, which would have lasted until well into the morning, had their breakfast not started burning. When they had rescued the food and fallen to eating what was salvageable, Rani raised the question again.

“You spoke of a haven with the Tauren?”

Kel swallowed down the last of his cooked egg and nodded. “They’re friends. Good friends. They’ll offer us sanctuary.”

Rani was less than comfortable with the idea of meeting even one Tauren, let alone a herd. She caught herself. That was her racist brother talking again. _Tribe_ , she corrected herself. Maybe all the tales he had spun about them being human-hating beasts, little better than dumb brutes were also false. But at this point, Rani had few options. She would take Kel’dan’s advice and the potential of safety, wherever it might be found. 

“Aren’t they over on Kalimdor?”

Kel’dan swigged the last of his morning brew and nodded, turning his affirmation to a questioning glance. “Have you never left Azeroth?”

“I’d never left Stormwind until a few weeks ago.”

“Well then, Lady Maelstrom, it’s about time you saw a little more of the world,” grinned the half-orc, rising to his feet and stretching. He leaned from side to side, testing his stitches and giving Rani an unexpected display of rolling, contracting half-orc muscle that gleamed in the morning sun. “You did a good job,” he remarked.

“I need my Champion alive and in one piece,” she replied after a moment’s pause to collect her wits. 

“And which piece would that be?” asked Kel’dan, seizing her by the hips and walking her backwards towards the tree where they had taken turns to rest.

Rani protested and pushed at him even as her back connected lightly with the tree trunk, glancing down at his hands where they grasped her waist. They were hard with muscle and tendon and ridged with slender veins, and his fingers did not move a hair’s breadth when she pushed at them. Rani raised her eyes to his face, and everything she had thought hard and strong inside her turned to water at the raw need she found there. His head was inclined, nostrils dilating slightly as he apparently scented her. His braid was slung over one shoulder and lay against a corded, tattooed pectoral, and her eyes were drawn to the textures of coarse black hair and gleaming olive-coloured skin. The sight of his solid, muscular body was playing havoc with her physical state so she looked back to his face, instantly losing herself in the glittering green eyes. His features were close to human in some respects, with an arched nose and a comparatively narrow mouth, but his Orcish heritage held strong in the heavy brow, the oversized lower jaw and the twin, jutting tusks.

“I thought we were leaving,” said Rani. In contradiction to her words, she ran her hands up over the sinewy forearms, across the smooth, bulging contours of his upper arms and shoulders, and hooked them around his neck.

“We were,” came the hoarse response. “Should get as many miles under our belts as possible before nightfall.”

Rani nodded at the wisdom of his suggestion. Neither of them moved. Somewhere nearby a stick cracked and a flock of birds took wing, bringing them both back to reality. Rani extricated herself from his embrace and moved past her lover to pack up the few remaining items, while Kel’dan kicked dirt over the remains of the fire. There would be time enough for them to explore their burgeoning desires later when they had increased the distance between them and Sol Maelstrom.

“Come on then, Kri’gor. Let’s be on our way.”

“What did you call me?” asked Rani from where she crouched, stuffing items into his pack.

“Kri’gor,” replied Kel’dan casually. “It’s your new Orc name.”

Rani stared after him in bewilderment then growing suspicion. “What does it mean?”

“It doesn’t have to _mean_ anything, does it?” replied the half-orc. He had untied the horde’s bridle and was making his way out of the clearing. “I just thought you should have an Orc name.”

“Kel!”

He shrugged and grinned at her over his shoulder then started whistling as he led the horse onwards.

“Kel’dan!!” fumed Rani. The only answer was the half-orc’s whistle, getting fainter as he headed into the forest.

They traveled through most of the rest of the day, avoiding the well-traveled paths and delving deeper into the wilds, and throughout it all, the young half-orc refused point blank to elaborate on the name he had given his companion. They had a few encounters along the way with some of the local fauna, who were less than pleased to find them in their territory. But Kel’dan’s two-hander and Rani’s fireballs put paid to the danger, and even provided some meat which Kel’dan sliced off and wrapped in leaves, stashing it away for their evening meal. Eventually they made their way along a high path through a rocky canyon and came upon a little cut in the rocks where a few trees and a sprinkling of grass dotted the earth. It was well hidden from the road and an old blackened ring of stones indicated it was occasionally used by travellers - but not recently. Kel’dan proclaimed it a good place to make camp, just as the heavens opened, soaking them to the skin in seconds.

“There were some trees ahead, might offer a little more shelter,” suggested the half-orc. Rani nodded readily and they made haste for the relative dryness of the forest. By the time they had walked for a few minutes into its depths, the downpour slackened and sunlight dappled the floor of fallen needles and twigs as it filtered through the canopy. Just as they were discussing whether to go back to the camp-spot they had found or continue to see if they could find a likely location in the woods, a second deluge began, this time laced with huge spheres of hail, hammering down through the gaps in the trees and stinging where it connected with skin. A wind kicked up a few moments later, bending and shaking the tops of the trees as though a giant hand stroked through their tops. Kel’dan held up a hand before his face, astonished by the elements’ sudden fury.

“You pissed off any storm elementals recently?” he shouted, but his voice was torn away by the force of the gale. They staggered onwards a few steps, when a chance glance to the side revealed a ramshackle stone structure and Rani grabbed his arm and pointed. He nodded and they made for the dimly-visible building, tugging the spooked horse behind them.

The cottage they found was sequestered behind a chest-high wall, which was cracked and broken in a few places, and topped by a hedge. A rusty iron gate barred the way, which, when Kel’dan put his shoulder to it, gave way with a loud, creaking protest. It opened onto an overgrown garden with a few fruit trees standing before a dilapidated, covered porch, and Kel’dan tied the horse to a tree before venturing on towards shelter. The house door was hanging askew, and he pushed it aside cautiously, checking for signs of danger. When none was evident, he motioned his drenched companion inside and pushed the door to behind them as best he could. They stood breathless and grinning at one another for a moment at their lucky find. Then Rani held out her hands, palms up and stared upwards. They were still in the downpour. A large hole in the roof of the house permitted ingress to the elements, and a pile of timbers lay just before them - a recent fall, judging by the lack of plant growth or decay. With an exasperated sigh that turned to a laugh, Rani turned to Kel’dan.

“Not having so much luck today.”

“I think we used it all up yesterday.” Peering through the gloom, the half-orc motioned ahead. “It looks a little drier in the back,” he commented, and they proceeded into the little chamber. The roof in the back part of the little building was indeed solid, and while the wind whistled down through the hole, they were at least less exposed here. As Rani’s eyes adjusted, she took in a large fireplace dominating the right hand wall, a set of shelves and storage at the back, a small wood-fired range on the left wall along with a second door, and above the main entrance, a raised platform that ran the entire width of the house, accessible by a ladder.

Kel’dan pulled his head out from the fireplace and commented, “Looks clear - how about getting a fire started, Kri’gor?”

Narrowing her eyes at the smug half-orc’s mysterious new name for her, Rani helped him pull some logs from the stores at either side of the fireplace and soon a cheery blaze was set, and Kel’dan set to work preparing the meat for their meal. By and by, the downpour slackened, and Rani moved off to explore the little one-room abode, rooting through the dusty cupboards and pulling out items she thought might be of use. With a small conjured flame above one hand, she tested and ascended the ladder, finding the raised platform to be a sleeping area, with a couple of old blankets neatly folded in one corner. A quick touch showed they had been dampened by the invading rain, but Rani took them down with her, spreading them out to dry before the fire. 

She shared her other finds with her half-orc companion, setting down a couple of serviceable tin plates and some small bags of seasoning, which made dinner both tastier and a little more civilized. Sated, they fell to talking again, sharing their respective experiences of fighting the ravening beasts in the woods, and their appreciation of their camping spot for the night. Presently, Rani pulled out the little wooden flame Kel’dan had made for her and turned it over in her hands, stroking the precise little points and admiring the colours. After a moment’s consideration, she asked, “Can you put a little hole in it so I can wear it?”

Her suggestion apparently pleased her companion, and with a happy grin, he dug around in the bottom of his pack for his tookit, from which he selected a slim auger, and he had soon drilled a hole in the bottom of the flame. He then fished out a short length of leather cord and tied the strung pendant about Rani’s wrist. She spent the next little while admiring it in the light of the fire. As Rani turned to smile her appreciation at him once again, she noticed his eyes on her, and, as though drawn in by some unseen force, she leaned across to kiss him again for his gift. 

“Rani,” he murmured. The way he said her name set fires in the mage’s blood that were more potent and warming than any flame she herself could conjure. He intoned her name between impassioned kisses that stole her breath and set her heart racing. His touch was gentle, as it had been ever since that one night in the storm, and Rani was starting to see him as two different parts of the same whole. He had shown himself on different occasions to be both a considerate and generous lover, and a paragon of raw, unbridled sexuality. Rani was honestly not sure which she preferred - or for that matter, which represented his true nature. Was he an Orc fighting to elevate his human side, or a human trying to suppress his Orc nature? She adored the duality of his personality, whichever circumstance was true.

Kel’dan had apparently become aware of her thoughtful mood and was looking at her in concern. “We don’t have to-” he broke off, swallowing hard. Rani did not need the enhanced Orcish sense of smell to observe his need; he was demonstrating that in a thousand ways that even a human could read. But he was evidently still troubled, whether by his behaviour that first night, or by something else, Rani could not tell. Given that the half-orc had teased her and joked with her almost incessantly since they had cleared the air, Rani thought maybe a little of the same treatment would encourage him to relax and put the past behind him.

“Are you going to be _nice_?” she teased, then instantly regretted it. The half-smile left his face and he faltered, drawing back. She shook her head, abandoning her attempt to make him feel more comfortable and decided to show him instead. With a reassuring smile, Rani pulled him in for a kiss that lasted until the rain died away and moon was high.

They shared the night watches again, to the mage’s continued regret. While they had four solid walls around them, they could not secure the door, and the hole in the roof meant they might just as well be out in the open. They explored the outside of the little cottage the following morning, and Kel’dan’s suggestion of foraging up a few berries for breakfast turned into an unexpected feast. The little garden before the house was clogged with herbs and berries growing in profusion, and hiding an old water pump, which proved to be serviceable. Behind the cottage, they discovered a culinary treasure trove, with a profusion of root and stem vegetables and a few semi-wild chickens. There was even an outhouse of sorts, which, once she had sent her formidable half-orc Champion in on spider duty, Rani professed to be infinitely preferable to doing one’s business _au naturel_. 

Before the hour was out, they were sitting on the rickety boards of the porch in the early morning light, sharing a breakfast cobbled together from eggs, herbs and a little of the remaining meat from the night before. A herbal brew steamed from two tin mugs Rani had found in a cupboard, and the forest around the little house was alive with birdsong. It was almost idyllic.

“Wouldn’t take much to fix that roof,” Kel’dan observed, swallowing down the last of his herb tea. “I could repair the outer wall, make a compound with defences…” He rubbed his chin as he planned.

“I could raise chickens. And learn to cook,” chuckled Rani.

Kel’dan grinned from his seat beside her on the little elevated porch, legs swinging companionably. “And I could sell my carvings in the local market. Not that there’s a village anywhere near here, but maybe the forest spiders like _stupid bits of tat_.”

Rani blushed bright red for the first - and probably not the last - time that day. “You know I didn’t mean that.” She was keeping the little figurines in a pouch at her waist and took them out often to admire them, now she knew what they meant. She had to admit, it was a seductively pretty picture: the half-orc craftsman and his fire-mage mate, living happily ever after in a little secluded cottage far from the dangers and threats of Stormwind. Kel’dan was looking at her with a hopeful smile edging its way onto his tusked lips, and Rani leaned in to meet them. She pulled away quickly, leaning her forehead against his. “Would you be happy?”

“I’d be with you,” he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t want to keep you from roving the land, or achieving some great destiny…”

“You’re not,” he assured her, but his face darkened and a hint of shame tinted his features. Shortly, he shook away whatever thought was troubling him and looked back at the little dwelling. “If I at least fix that door, we could both sleep tonight,” he suggested. Rani nodded enthusiastically. It was the thing she wanted most in all the world, and it was killing her not falling asleep or waking up in his arms. Even if they only stayed a few days, it would be worth it for that alone. Moments later, the half-orc was on his feet, digging out his tools and selecting bits of wood from the fallen roof, and with that, he set to repairing the door.

“I feel like a fifth wheel,” admitted Rani after a little while, although she was quite enjoying watching the play of light on his muscles as he strained to hold the heavy wooden portal in place, or hammer in new planks. 

Kel’dan grinned down at her. “Use the time to practice.” Rani had almost forgotten about the regular concentration exercises she had undertaken on their journey, and for a little while back in Stormwind, she had thought she would have to abandon her path entirely. 

“I do appreciate you encouraging me,” she said. She wanted him to understand how much his support meant to her: gods knew she had given him little enough thanks for all the things he had done for her over the last couple of weeks.

Kel’dan gave a dismissive laugh. “If assassins do come after us, I’d quite like to have your firepower honed and ready.”

There was some sense in that. And besides, more practice would bring more control, something Rani desperately wanted after the incident in her chambers. “How do you know so much about this?” 

“My aunt is a mage,” replied the half-orc, his words muffled behind the nails he gripped in his teeth. “I thought it might be my Path at one time, but-” He shook his head. I just don’t have the discipline for it.

“You need discipline to follow the Warrior’s Path,” countered Rani.

“I never really followed that either,” shrugged her companion. His features clouded with negative thoughts and he drew a shaking breath, stashing his tools in his pack. “Not really sure _what_ I am.”

“But the arena-” protested Rani. “The worgs, the giant boars we fought in the forest - you accomplish all that and don’t consider yourself a warrior?”

“Easy enough with my training and-” He gave a self effacing shrug and indicated his form, highlighting his natural physical advantages. “A true warrior takes risks, dedicates his life to the Path, will go to any lengths to pursue his goals.” 

Rani shook her head in bewilderment. Did he really think so little of his obvious skills?

“I did what I did in the arena because there was something I wanted,” he admitted. “What sort of warrior follows his path only when it pleases him, when there’s something to gain?

“A wise one?” suggested Rani. “One who values life?” 

“I’m happier making and fixing things than cutting things to ribbons,” Kel’dan informed her. That same darkness spread across his face again and Rani wondered what it was that ate at him so. He brightened again then, his natural humour rescuing him from whatever gloom pervaded his mind. “Wonder if there’s a Carpenter’s Path.”

Rani chuckled and moved to sit on the porch and practice her concentration, summoning a little ball of light that undulated and coruscated above her fingers. She maintained it right up until she felt something warm and wet on her neck and dropped it to find her half-orc companion leaning over her, grinning at the success of his distraction.

“Kel!” she admonished, wiping the back of her neck and pulling a face.

“A mage needs to be able to concentrate when people are getting their heads chopped off, and spells are exploding everywhere. If you can’t cope with a lick on the neck-”

“I can so!” retorted Rani. “You just took me by surprise.” Needled by her companion’s mocking grin, she added. “Fine, go on then. Distract me.”

With that, she turned away from him and conjured the little glowing ball again. Kel’dan spent the next few minutes doing the most ridiculous things imaginable, dancing around in front of her, pulling faces, producing vulgar noises with the aid of various body parts (some of which he went so far as to bare), then finally sobering and stalking slowly around to stand behind her. Rani allowed her mind to flow into the tiny sphere of energy, letting her thoughts fill it, and its light fill her, all the while fully aware that more distractions would come. 

It started with a pair of warm hands on her shoulders, stroking and squeezing the tense muscles there. She sucked in a breath and forced herself to focus. One hand slipped beneath her chin, tilting her head back, and warm, moist lips pressed against her exposed neck. Each slow kiss was hard-edged, and the rasp of tusks against such a vulnerable area was almost enough to dissipate the ball. With a supreme effort, Rani shut out the sensations. It was only a kiss, after all. The hand beneath her chin and the moist warmth on her neck remained constant, but the other hand was wandering now. Rani tried to ignore its progress, but it slid down over her shoulder, down her back, under her arm and around her ribs to cup her breast, where it stopped. The kisses at her neck turned to gentle bites, and grazes from sharp tusks, and a moan escaped her lips involuntarily. She was perspiring with the effort now, the energy required to maintain focus almost more than she could muster. Still, she kept the little ball manifested right up until the moment his fingers found her nipple and with a tiny cry of surprise and pleasure, she lost the light.

“You failed, mage,” the half-orc said grimly.

Rani glanced up at him, lips parted. He still hadn’t released her chin or her breast.

“So?”

“So there are consequences to failure.”

Warmth flooded Rani’s abdomen, and she shivered with a little frisson of excitement. “And what might those be?”

“You’ll see.” And with that, he lifted her bodily from the porch, threw her over his shoulder and disappeared into the little cottage. Rani giggled with delight. “I’m not sure this counts as ‘consequences’, Kel.”

“You don’t know what I’m going to do yet.”

“I can take a wild guess,” came the amused retort.

“I’m going to shut you in the outhouse with all the spiders.”

Rani shrieked and began to struggle, grabbing for bits of the cottage’s structure as they passed, right up until the moment he lowered her to their blankets before the fireplace and, with the gentle manner to which she was becoming accustomed, proved her original assumption correct.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know, Kel and Rani are playing house. And they’re all happy and lovey dovey. *evil grin* Muahahahahaha.


	12. The Red Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kel'dan and Rani travel to a nearby village and hear about a rising threat.

Two weeks later, the tumbledown little cottage was barely recognisable. The roof was fixed, the garden tidy, a little grazing area had been staked out for the horse, and the pump was churning out clean water. Flowers bloomed in little baskets outside the front door, and a veritable cornucopia of fruits and vegetables provided daily feasts: it was a true homestead. Neither Kel’dan nor Rani was in any hurry to leave, and although they had never actually said aloud that they were intending to stay, or for how long, slowly but surely, their inclination to press on to Thunder Bluff was waning. 

There were however some necessities that no amount of hunter-gathering or improvisiation could provide, and so, when Rani professed disgust at having to wear the same dress for the fifteenth day running, they resolved to make the journey to the nearest town. Kel’dan had not been idle through the long evening hours, and had a small trove of hand-carved items ready to trade. Rani had filled a couple of woven baskets with fruit and eggs, and while both managed to sell all their wares at the town market, the half-orc was decidedly better off at the end of the day. He was not selfish with his gains however, and actually found he took pleasure in purchasing new clothing for his sweetheart. It had taken the better part of half a day to travel to the small market town, and so their stay in civilisation was short, which suited Kel’dan just fine, and it appeared Rani was just as eager as he to return to the place they were both coming to think of as home. 

As they left the clothier’s stall, a glint of afternoon sunlight on something sharp and silver triggered Kel’dan’s well-honed instincts for danger, and so he was half-prepared when a black-robed figure spun towards him in a whirlwind of steel. Pushing Rani behind him, Kel’dan ducked the assassin’s first attack and, with no time to free his two-hander, he snapped a wooden upright from the stall next to him. As the assassin slashed at him with a dripping green dagger-blade, he slammed it aside with the sturdy wood, pivoted the plank and smacked it down on the back of the black-clad figure’s head. The assailant was floored but vaulted to his feet again seconds later, by which time Kel’dan had drawn his sword and drove it straight through the assassin’s ribs. He withdrew it with a soft squelching sound, tugging at it in annoyance as it snagged on bone, and Rani rushed forward, along with a small crowd of onlookers. Kel’dan dropped to one knee and rummaged around on the assassin’s person, soon finding what he was looking for. He handed the scrap of paper to Rani and she confirmed his suspicions. 

“Sol.”

“He’s alive then,” Kel’dan observed, rummaging through the fallen man’s clothing. Again he found a couple of small vials and stashed them in his belt pouch as he rose to his feet. If House Maelstrom was sending assassins again, a vial or two of the antidote might save another life.

Rani nodded thoughtfully, but her gaze was locked on the would-be-killer. It was impossible to tell from her glazed expression whether she was happy about her brother’s continued survival. Amid calls to stand aside, the local militia began to shoulder their way through the crowd, and Kel’dan thought it a good time to make themselves scarce. He ushered Rani out of the main thoroughfare. “Don’t want to draw any more attention to ourselves,” he muttered. 

A wine merchant called to them then, encouraging them inside his small booth to inspect and sample his wares, and they quickly complied. It would put them out of the eyeline of the onlookers - and the city militia - and with the half-orc’s small flask of whisky long exhausted, he was keen to replenish his stock. They browsed for a while, one eye ever on the doorway, but the hubbub outside quickly faded: it seemed Death was no stranger in the isolated little town.   
  
“Surprised to see your sort around here,” came the gruff comment from the merchant. “You looking for trouble?” He backed down at the belligerent glint in Kel’dan’s eye and raised his hands in a mollifying gesture. “Didn’t mean to offend, friend. It’s just with all the trouble recently,” he paused, eying the half-orc meaningfully. “I thought someone like you would be giving places like this a wide berth.”

“What do you mean?” Rani queried.

“Haven’t you heard?” asked the merchant. He pulled out a bottle from under his counter and poured a small measure into two small glasses, then he leaned forward to murmur in a conspiratorial fashion, “The Red Hand rides again.”

The name meant nothing to Kel'dan, but beside him, Rani twitched at the mention and a glance in her direction showed her face had turned ashen. She shook her head at him. Whatever it was would have to wait until they were alone.

“None of your kind is safe in these parts,” he asserted, pushing the two small glasses across to his customers and leaning on the counter. “Had a bit of trouble here last week. Red Hand came to town in force, drove out the few greens- er, Orcs - living close by, told ‘em to go back where they came from. Don’t know what happened to them then. Maybe they just went off to Falgor, that village a little ways out in the wilds.” He nodded to Kel’dan. “Always good customers for me though. Pay well, don’t cause no trouble.” He gave the pair an appraising stare then tossed his head at the half-orc. “Best keep a low profile, or just send the lady into town from now on.”

Kel’dan exchanged a glance with Rani and they bought a few bottles from the merchant, thanking him for his insights. They steered clear of the road on the route home, and by early evening their path brought them to the outskirts of a small Orc settlement, presumably the one the wine merchant had mentioned. Even from half a mile away, they could tell all was not well. Smoke rose from incinerated huts, the outer palisade had been smashed apart, and as they rode cautiously through the wreckage, they began to find the corpses. Kel’dan dismounted to examine one of the fallen Orcs, noting that the creature had not been killed quickly, and he grimaced, sending a wordless prayer to the gods of battle. Rani tugged at his elbow.

“Let’s go, Kel. Now.”

He was inclined to agree with the urgency in her voice - the fires and murders were recent. As he gained his feet, Rani pointed out a symbol painted onto a large upright that had once supported the central, communal dwelling. It was a red hand, and from the look of the darkening colour, had likely been daubed in blood. Kel’dan wasted no further time on questions, lifting his companion and depositing her onto their horse’s back. He vaulted up behind her, grabbed the reins and set the horse to speed, leaving the ravaged village behind. They reached their cottage a little after full dark, both shaken by the events and revelations of the day, and they sat on the porch to share a bottle of wine in the darkness. There was no need to light a lantern, for Rani’s head was once again surrounded by fireflies.

The young woman gave her companion a long-suffering look. “I have no idea why they like me so much.”

“The Tauren believe that everyone has a spirit animal,” Kel’dan told her. “You’re a fire mage, so I guess it makes sense your spirit animal might be a firefly.”

Rani scowled. “Couldn’t have been a _dragon_ , could it? Something that might actually be of use in fighting off assassins?”

Kel’dan chuckled. “I don’t think spirit animals are ever actually supposed to appear. It’s more of a spiritual belief; helps you identify with characteristics of the animal that you’d like to bring into your life. You might want the patience of a hunting cat, or the speed and cunning of a wolf. Speaking of which…” He pulled out a half-finished piece he was working on and held it out to Rani, shuffling closer and slipping an arm around her shoulders while she examined it.

“It’s you and me,” he explained. It was a half-carved totem, rough around the edges, but clearly showing the outlines of two faces: one human, one Orc. Further down was a snarling wolf, and higher, above the human head, the totem was being shaped into flames. 

“It’s beautiful,” laughed Rani, delight curving her lips. She leaned over and kissed him, and they fell into companionable silence as she admired it, leaning against one another and sharing their warmth. They were both avoiding any talk of the day’s events, and they both knew it, but sooner or later, it would demand discussion.

“What we saw today at the orc village - that wasn’t the work of assassins,” Kel’dan commented eventually. The silence had held sway for a long while, and he knew his companion had something to tell him. “The merchant mentioned the Red Hand - you know who they are, don’t you?”

Rani bowed her head, causing the little swarm of glowing insects to dip and whirl. “It’s the Order of the Red Hand, just as the merchant said. I haven’t seen their sigil in a good few years. It was Sol’s name for the band of lords who used to go orc-hunting with him when they were younger. They were never so bold though, never so ruthless - this is on a far grander scale than anything he did when I was a child.”

Kel’dan mulled that over. It meant that Sol and his men had been within half a day’s ride of their little house, and although the likelihood of them finding their secluded spot was slim, still it bothered him.

“I worry that my being with you has set him on the warpath with orc-kind again,” said the young mage, looking at Kel’dan with haunted eyes.

“It’s not your fault, Rani,” Kel’dan rubbed her arm in reassurance. “Sol alone is responsible for what he does.” _And he would pay for it_ , thought Kel’dan, but he spared his lover that rather aggressive thought, born as it was from his Orcish side.

Sleep refused to court the half-orc that night, even after an extended and energetic bout of lovemaking. The rough platform above the door was now their permanent sleeping space, and he held Rani’s slumbering form in his arms as he stared, wakeful at the wall. Tiny shuttered slats permitted a view of the garden whenever Kel’dan heard an odd noise or felt uneasy: he opened it often. Rani’s face was illumined in soft moonlight whenever he peeked outside, and as he glanced down, he saw that even in her sleep, she was smiling. She had been insistent that they put paid to the idea of night-watches as soon as the roof and door were fixed and Kel’dan had to admit that her priorities had made life better. With her soft, naked body pressed against his, she was protected by his bulk, and it made him feel as though he was fulfilling one of the roles life had sketched for him when the designs of his destiny were drawn up.

Despite the comfort he felt at her proximity, his mind swam with thoughts of the assassin and the Red Hand, of the Orc village and the wanton destruction Rani’s brother had caused. Having seen so much today that was _Orc_ , his thoughts naturally flew to his home and family, and the conflicting emotions those memories always brought with them. The time he had spent with the Tauren had taught him to enhance his inner calm, and to suppress the Orcish side of his nature, but he was concerned at the increasing frequency with which his rogue thoughts had manifested of late. The more aggressive and impulsive side of his heritage was ever waiting beneath the surface, ready to emerge and take control should he lower his guard. He had, however found new ways to placate the orc within, by building and fixing things for his mate, shielding her with his body as they slept, and, in an activity that was fast becoming a favourite of his, 'distracting' her when she practiced her magic. The wild side of his nature was also satisfied when he hunted, and when he killed, but most of the time it rankled at his calmness and restraint.

When sleep finally claimed him, his last thoughts were of his Om’riggor - his rite of passage - and the event that forced him to leave his home and his family far behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I'm being really slow at updating this. It's partly because I'm getting sidetracked writing other stuff, drawing pictures for the first time in years, and writing random arguments between Kel's parents (don't ask). But I've also been deconstructing and reconstructing the next few chapters of this to make sure it all makes sense and has some impact. Hope it works!
> 
> On the note of changing plotlines, when I originally wrote Chapters 5 & 6, I had planned for Kel to see Rani safely to Stormwind, then quit as her champion, go home to see his parents and figure out what to do with his life. That's not the direction the story took (it pretty much writes itself), but I did get inspiration for this little comic. It amused me at the time. ;)
> 
> https://exophile3d.tumblr.com/post/626912968772288512/so-out-of-practice-but-this-strip-was


	13. Om'riggor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kel'dan undertakes the Om'riggor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been trying to figure this damn scene out for weeks, writing bits of it here and there, then getting distracted with all of the other things. It was kind of pivotal to the whole story though, so I hope it works! :/ 

Kel’dan was no stranger to fear. His earliest memories were coloured by it. He saw it in the eyes of the conquered and the rebellious, he watched it drive kings to their knees with no thought of resistance, and as such, he had an intimate knowledge of its many faces. His father, the Chief of Chiefs, used the emotion to his advantage in his drive for conquest, but also clearly despised all those who quaked before his army’s relentless tread. From the day he was old enough to reason, therefore, the half-orc had striven to overcome fear in all its myriad forms, that he might never seem wanting in his father’s eyes, or have him turn that look of cold disgust upon him, for such a thing would kill him as surely as any steel. Being at a physical disadvantage compared to full-blood orcs his age, he quickly learned that he could appear stronger by showing no fear, and as time went by, he almost came to believe it. There came a time when he feared not the slash of an enemy blade, nor the wind-rushed message of death from an archer’s bolt, and while he cared deeply for the wellbeing of those close to him, he accepted death as a natural part of life. Today his mastery of fear would be put to the test. 

Kel’dan made his way into the clearing with his spear strapped across his back. In line with ancient custom, he brought no other weaponry, and was clad only in trousers and boots. An Orc was expected to handle anything life threw at him without recourse to an arsenal of arms, and his hide should be thick enough to protect him beyond the need for armour. Today was a test of strength, speed and skill, and Kel’dan would carry nothing with him that he did not need. It was with a mix of excitement, trepidation and pride that he entered the circle of the Trial stones, only for his heart to plummet. Instead of the familiar figures of his father or his uncle, he was greeted by the hulking form of Grax, next in line to lead the Blackheart Clan. There had been no love lost between them since the day Kel’dan had beaten the Blackheart heir to within an inch of his life for insulting his mother. It was one of the few times he had been overcome by his Orcish nature, and while he regretted the incident for the enemies he made that day, given the choice, he would do the same again. The Orc had never forgiven him for the incident, and was unlikely to make the Trial easy for him.

Grax turned to acknowledge him with a grunt, his surly brow furrowed and his lips curled in distaste around his broken, mismatched tusks. He looked Kel’dan up and down, then turned and muttered something to his companions, who laughed, but did not share the joke. Grax began to pace around the circle then, touching each of the Trial stones in turn, creating a sense of ritual and atmosphere. As he moved, he spoke in an old, dead tongue, and thumped his fist to his chest. Kel’dan wondered if he even knew what the words meant. Blackheart, much like his father, was not the most erudite of creatures, and his ways were steeped in old clan lore. If questioned about his heritage however, neither Grax nor his sire could have said much about the meaning or the roots of those traditions, to which both adhered blindly, and spurned others who did not follow suit. The stories Kel’dan had learned at his mother’s knee, on the other hand, contained messages and guidance on how to make one’s way in life, and make it count, and he had taken them to heart. He knew right from wrong and, unlike Grax and his cronies, would not follow some anachronistic tribal edict just because tradition demanded it.

“Half-breed.” Grax’s voice was thick and sounded like he was speaking through a throat full of phlegm and nails.

Kel’dan fumed inwardly, but showed no signs of his irritation. Appearances were everything here. He was sorely tempted to respond with a retaliatory greeting of ‘half-brain’, but suspected that might just send Grax and his entire company of miscreant friends into a frenzy. Today was not a day to start pointless fights; today was the day when the Om’riggor, if he succeeded, would mark the beginning of his life as an adult.

“Today you hunt,” began the orc, stalking around the circle and raising his arms to emphasise his words. “Today you kill.” Those assembled voiced their support of the ancient blood-rite, and raised their weapons. “Today you become … _Orc_.” His face twisted in a sneer as he chewed out the word. Fixing the smaller male with a calculating stare, he went on, “The Chief of Chiefs has brought dozens of tribes together - this is the largest warband of Orcs Azeroth has ever seen. Will you stand with them as a warrior?”

“I will, replied Kel’dan. The assembled figures roared their approval.

“Will you fight for the Clans?” 

“I will,” he repeated. The roar increased in volume.

“Will you follow the path the Warchief forges, and grow the Ro’th in blood and conquest?”

Kel’dan hesitated. He was familiar with the Orcish word Grax used, and while it did not apply - as far as he was concerned - to the conglomeration of tribes among which he dwelt, he thought perhaps it was just another artifact of the old traditions to which the Orc clung so desperately.

“I will,” he replied. The youngsters yelled and pumped their fists in the air, and the individuals standing before each Trial stone struck the monoliths with their weapons, adding a ringing note to the clamour.

The Blackheart heir then asked several questions which tested Kel’dan’s knowledge of Orcish lore and law, all of which the young half-orc answered without hesitation. He had devoured the old tales told to him by both his human and Orc parents and had absorbed the law almost by accident, sitting in the Chief’s Circle night after night and listening to the conversations of the tribal leaders.

Grax grinned and made a beckoning motion with a meaty arm, then stood back as a pair of his friends escorted a man into the clearing. Kel’dan did not know him, but he wore the colours of a human city that had pledged itself to his father’s banners some months ago. Perhaps he too was undertaking a rite of passage today.

“Now we hunt.” The half-orc was not sure he had ever seen Grax looking quite so ferociously amused. 

“And what are we hunting?” asked Kel’dan. If the hunt was to be done with spears, it was likely some land-animal, and he had hunted most of the local fauna at one time or another. The Om’riggor usually entailed hunting something fast, enormous and deadly. 

“That.”

Kel’dan narrowed his eyes. The Orc was pointing to the human male who had just joined them in the clearing. It was a bad joke, an insult to the young man who was about to come of age. 

“What are we hunting?” he repeated, enunciating every word.

The silence endured for many tense seconds, and the two males stood with their eyes locked on one another, each waiting for the other to concede. The air was warming with the rising sun, and birds chittered as they went about their morning tasks. Grax did not relent. At last Kel’dan was forced to realise the Orc was in earnest.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Kel’dan at length. He’s one of us.”

Grax lumbered towards him, his savage face twisted in a snarl and spittle beading on his broad lips. “Do you refuse the rite of Om’riggor?” he demanded. From the eager look in his small, dull eyes, he was hoping Kel’dan would say yes.

“His city is pledged to our army,” Kel’dan argued with a wave in the shaking man’s direction. “There is no way my father agreed to this. Where is he? I want to speak with him.”  
  
“I was wondering how long it would be before you called for your daddy, runt.” Smirking at the half-orc’s embarrassed glower, Grax stepped forward until he was toe to toe with Kel’dan, inclining his head to address him.

“What did you think we were doing, half-breed? Did you think we’d marched across half the continent and united a hundred armies just to sit around with our thumbs in our arses?”

Kel’dan blinked at that. He had never given much thought to his father’s ultimate aim. His whole life, it had always been thus: the Warband marched, the Warband conquered. Their banners were raised in the vanquished city, and its army would swell their ranks and put its fighting numbers at their command. 

_But to what end?_

Blackheart enlightened him. “We are reforging the _Iron Horde_ , Kel’dan. We will bring the world to heel. That is what you learn today in your Om’Riggor. It is time to close the mind of the child, and open the mind of the adult. To prove your worth, here among your true brothers, you will hunt and kill the natural prey of the Orc.” Grax pointed behind him to the man who stood awaiting his fate.

The Chief of Chiefs had been distant of late, and Kel’dan had put it down to his approaching Trial. He had assumed his father had not wanted to show favouritism by telling him what to expect - but now it seemed the reason for his silence was more sinister. Perhaps this was why he had not let Kel’dan in on his plans.

“We,” Grax indicated the young tribespeople who had gathered - there was not a smiling face among them. “…are Orc,” said Grax, pacing around him. “We kill humans. It’s a simple fact, but you, half-breed, can’t understand that, and that’s why your father will never cede the throne to you. If you can’t do something as natural as killing a human, how can the greatest orc chief of our lifetime consider you as the heir to his empire?”

The words cut through Kel’dan’s defences more surely than any knife blade. It struck at his inner fears and insecurities: that he would never be _Orc_ enough to make his father proud. But his mother was human, and he had no desire to kill a sentient being for the hell of it. 

“I won’t do this,” growled Kel’dan, tossing his spear to the ground.

“Bear witness,” growled Grax, turning to make eye contact with the tribespeople who stood in front of each of the Trial stones. He turned back to Kel’dan with a look that made clear how much he relished what he was about to say. “If you can’t commit to the Path of the Warrior, you have no place here. This Ro’th follows the Path of Conquest. We will raid. We will Kill. We will conquer. What use do we have for a half-breed weakling who won’t fight?”

“I’ll fight,” growled Kel’dan. “I’ll fight when I need to. When it’s worth it.” He fixed Grax with a meaningful glare. He did not need to remind him aloud about the time the half-orc had beaten him into the dust. He still had the broken tusk to show for it. “But I won’t hunt down a human ally just to prove it.”

“That your last word?”

Kel’dan tensed. That sounded suspiciously like a precursor to a death sentence. He subtly adjusted the position of his feet to give him a better defensive stance and a chance to move should the lumbering beast decide to charge, then Blackheart gave a signal with a twitch of his fingers, and an axe hewed through the human male’s gut, sending him to his knees to die in pain.

Kel’dan exploded into action. He was on the man’s killer in the blink of an eye, his not-inconsiderable bulk flooring the startled Orc and pinning him there as he began to rain blows on his thick skull with all the power in his torso, shoulder and arm. Long used to fighting his much larger contemporaries, Kel’dan had developed tactics that allowed him to defeat enemies that outweighed and outmuscled him. By the time Grax’s cronies managed to drag the livid half-orc from his victim, the offender’s skull was caved in on one side, and his tongue protruded from his broken jaw.

Grax nodded grimly, apparently either unsurprised or unperturbed by the scene that had unfolded. “As I thought. You’d kill one of us before you’d kill a human. This is over, _half-breed_. You will never be an Orc warrior. You will never gain the honour of the Om’riggor. You bring shame on the Warband and the name of the Great Warchief.” He paused, savouring his words. “ _Leave_.”

The scene before Kel’dan slowly returned to normal as the red mist faded from his eyes. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but one of his fellows lay dead by his hand and he could not argue with any one of the roster of sins Grax listed.

He stood back as the tribespeople lifted the two lifeless bodies and carried them from the circle. Pausing only to give Grax one final, confused glare, Kel’dan disappeared into the forest. His feet brought him home by a slightly longer route, and on his return to the settlement, he hurried into his dwelling. A little while later, he shouldered his pack and took one last glance around at his scattered belongings: a few treasured books, some carvings he had been working on, and his spare weapons and armour. He had taken only what he needed. He sucked in and released a shaking breath, overwhelmed and confused by the conflicting feelings welling within him. Nothing was as he had first thought. The young half-orc felt as though he had been split down the middle: half of him was appalled at the path his father’s thirst for conquest was taking, and distressed that he had killed a comrade in anger. The orc in him was furious that he had failed to meet the demands of the Om’riggor and live up to the expectations his father - and the entire warband - had placed on him. With these contradictory forces vying for supremacy, he could not remain here.

The door to his home opened onto the Chief’s Circle, and he stepped out to find Grax deep in conversation with his father. He watched them from a distance with his heart in his throat, the younger Orc talking animatedly and the redoubtable figure of his father standing still and attentive. In that moment, his worst fears were made manifest. The Orc chieftain glanced in his direction with a look of mixed anger and disappointment. Kel’dan did not fear the scorn of his peers, nor the risk of death they all faced every second of every day, but to see his father’s stern features contorted in disgust at his runt of a son was like a blade through his heart. Kel’dan’s ears flattened back against his skull and he fled from his home and family, shuddering with shame at his cowardice, before the look on his father’s face stopped his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! :( I'm so mean to my characters.


	14. Duality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Overdue smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear. Someone’s been bottling stuff up. I am not responsible for this.

Kel’dan sat bolt upright, chest heaving, sweat coursing down his skin. The dream was an often-recurring one, but rarely so vivid. Given the day’s events, and the visions of Orcs and death he had seen, it was hardly surprising that his mind would revisit his last memories of home. Guilt and shame wracked him daily, but with those memories so close to the surface today, he suffered all the more for them. He regretted leaving in the way that he did, with no word of goodbye to friends or family, and he wondered often how they fared and what they must think of him. He drew up his knees and rested his damp forehead on his hand, forcing his breathing into a shaky but regular rhythm. When he had calmed a little, he reached out for the sleeping form beside him, for his mate, for his _one_. In her arms he could find solace and comfort - but the makeshift bed was empty and the blankets cold.

It was still fully dark outside: sleep had evidently evaded Rani too. Turning to lean over the edge of the platform, he spied his lover on the ground floor with her back to him, seated on a large, flat-topped cylinder of wood he was carving into an ornate stool. She was deep in her meditative practices, the little hovering ball of light now changing colours and flickering with hidden flames. She was improving. She was clad only in the light robe he had bought for her the previous day, and it draped her form in ways that almost made him jealous. Kel’dan gripped the edge of the platform as an unexpected set of thoughts flitted through his mind. He blinked, dispelling them. 

_How he would love to tear the robe from her, bend her over the log and take her roughly from behind._

He pushed himself away from the edge of the platform where he could no longer see her and dry-washed his face with his hands. 

_If he was any sort of male he would be down there right now with his cock hilted in the soft little mage’s flesh, anywhere it would fit._

The half-orc shook his head to try to clear it. The words were clear enough that he almost thought they had been spoken aloud. 

_Any true orc would be balls-deep in his mate by now, fucking her till her eyes crossed and she screamed for him to come inside her._

Kel’dan got to his feet, almost without thinking about it. He had to bend here in the eaves of the roof, and, uncomfortable, he made his way down the ladder. As disturbing as the rogue thoughts were, he needed his Rani. He yearned for the comfort of her embrace, to feel her warmth all around him, and to breathe in her essence through the scent of her.

 _While his face was wedged between her legs._

Again, he hesitated, nerves frayed by the lust-filled thoughts coiling in his mind, but at the end of the day, they were just thoughts. He did not need to act upon them. Rani was but a few feet away now and within a heartbeat he could lift her into his arms and hold her close with his head hidden in the crook of her neck.

_While he pounded that tight little slit that was always so wet for him._

He would be disrupting her practice, but he was sure she would not mind. _And if she did, he would just tongue her until she shut up about it._

Kel’dan straddled the wooden stool behind Rani and inhaled deeply at her neck, breath stirring the shining red strands of hair. Her scent started an avalanche of thoughts and emotions. She was _his_. He was _hers_. In all the world there was no other for him. He needed her, now, all around him. He ran his hands against the silky material on her hips, sliding them around to encircle her and pull her against his naked chest. A low hum of mixed approval and desire rumbled from between his lips and he buried his face against her neck.

“If you’re trying to distract me, it won’t work. My concentration is unshakeable,” she informed him. Her voice was cold, completely empty of all feeling. In normal circumstances, it was sing-song and full of emotion - most often amused outrage at him. Kel’dan took that as a challenge. Besides, ‘Distracting Rani’ was one of his favourite pastimes. Not only did it help the mage grow her fire magic, but it usually ended in sex when his lover gave in to his teasing and yielded to their mutual desires. He needed that comfort now.

_Because he was weak and shameful. Because he never could face his fears._

The half-orc stroked his hands along her arms and up over her shoulders and neck, letting his fingers dance lightly over her skin at the most sensitive points. _What was he, a milksop? Never could take a stand or make a decision_. Baited, Kel’dan’s lips curled into a snarl around his short tusks and he wrapped a hand around Rani’s soft throat, pulling her hard against his chest. The sphere wavered a little, but held strong. He slid a hand along her thigh, pulling at the robe’s edge until his fingers encountered bare flesh, squeezing and scratching his blunt nails against her skin. He moved his hand up to sit between her legs, pushing her thighs apart and tightening his grip on her throat. Not a waver. She was getting better. He slid the robe from her shoulders, letting it fall until she sat, lit by the glowing ball of energy, robe loose around her naked form.

_She was at his mercy now. He could put out her light within seconds if he really wanted to._

Kel’dan snorted at the errant thought. He was fully aware of that, but he wanted to make this last. His fingers delved between the mage’s legs, gliding against the slickness of her inner thighs and pressing against her wet folds. She was aroused, but she was not yet prepared. Tightening the fingers of his other hand until she gave a ragged gasp, he slipped a finger into her to the third knuckle, moving it in slow circles until she voiced a high-pitched whimper.

“Slipping, Kri’gor?”

“N-no,” came the faltering response. “Try harder.” 

With a wicked grin, he sank a second finger into her and pulled her head to the side, letting her feel the heat of his breath against her throat.

_He had never even bitten her. A full-blood orc would have claimed his mate for all to see long since. His puny tusks weren’t up to the task._

Kel’dan adjusted his position so that his hardened member pressed against the curves of his lover’s backside, rocking his hips as he pleased her with his fingers. If anything, Rani’s fire-sphere was growing brighter. He would need to up his game. The half-orc slid a third finger into her tight heat, rubbing his palm against her mound in time with the rocking motions of his hips. Rani cried out, but the light remained strong. It was going to take more tonight. Good. He loved testing her limits, and seeing just how much he could do to her before she lost her mind. 

Withdrawing his fingers, he pushed Rani to her feet. He held her by the hips and pressed his bulbous cockhead against her slit, growling in frustration as she slid off. He tightened his grip, held her still and began to pull her towards him. The light faltered and Rani drew a hasty breath, but she cleared her throat and resumed her exercise. Kel’dan moved his hands up to her breasts, drawing circles around her nipples with his fingertips, shortly moving to grab a mound of flesh in each huge palm and squeeze, catching her nipples between his constricting fingers. 

_He should just take her now. What the fuck was he waiting for?_

The half-orc released her breasts, pulled her head to one side, and drew his tusks against the vulnerable flesh there, lowering his jaw so he could poke at the skin with their tips. He sank his teeth in hard, then dropped his other hand to her womanhood, running his fingers around her outer lips, outlining the limits of his cock where he stretched her. Pressing his palm to her mound, he began to move his fingers in a gentle circle against her nub, all the while pushing down on her pelvis until she began to envelop him. She was straining to stay on her feet, knowing perhaps that the invasion of his manhood was all it would take to shatter her concentration. 

_If he was lucky. She was probably comparing him to her full-blooded orc lover. He would have made her come a hundred times by now._

The half-orc snarled against her throat at the annoying intrusion of the Orcish thoughts, and increased the pressure of his bite. 

_He was not good enough._

He tightened his grip on his mate’s neck, feeling her pulse throb fast and strong against his fingers.

 _He was not_ Orc _enough._

Kel’dan loosed an animalistic roar against his lover’s throat and leaped to his feet, holding her firm against his lips and hips, and used gravity to sheath himself in her. 

Rani’s light went out. 

_Finally._

Lost to his Orcish needs, Kel'dan rutted, holding his mate aloft with one hand wrapped across her upper arms and the other between her legs, pumping his impaling flesh in and out of her at full speed. Rani held onto his hands and tried to press her feet against his shins or thighs for purchase, but the roughness of his motions kept dislodging them. Judging from her passionate cries, she was close to coming undone, imprisoned by the circle of his arms, and the thought set his senses alight. Slipping his arm from between her legs to grip her tightly around her waist, he thrust into her with solid, powerful strokes, ramming into her to the hilt until he felt her convulse and spasm around his girth, launching her into a screaming, shuddering orgasm that sent him roaring into his own release.

The voice within was silent. 

The world swam back into focus, and Kel’dan took in the shapes and angles of their little cottage, glimmering now in the faint light of dawn. Rani was limp in his arms, shaking with residual pleasure while her feet dangled several feet above the floor. He withdrew gently, and when he set her down, he tasted copper and thought - absurdly - it was because of the colour of her hair. It was then he realised he had broken the skin at her throat and he was appalled, offering to clean and bandage the wound. His next words came out in a flood of contrition.

“Rani, I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you or go so far. I lost control. I let the beast inside come out, Let me make this right, and I swear I will never do anything like that again.”

_An orc’s true mate takes whatever he has to give._

Kel’dan mentally batted at the intrusive thought. Whatever his Orc nature might have to say on the subject, he himself was wracked with guilt and horrified at what he had done. Rani had been forgiving of him when he had lost control that night in the storm-

_She loved it, idiot._

\- but this time he had actually injured her. He had released the inner demon again and nothing good had come of it. Rani stood in the gloom, watching him in silence.

“ _Say something_ ,” he begged.

“You’ve been holding back,” observed the mage, pressing her hand against her neck and looking at her wet fingers in the dim light. “Trying to bottle up your urges.” 

Kel’dan’s guilt reached a new high, but it was accompanied by relief that his mate understood what was going on - better than him, it appeared. 

“You shouldn’t,” she asserted, stepping close to him. “You have less control over them, and they’re prone to erupt and take over. Believe me, I know,” she said, glancing at her hand and summoning a tiny flicker of flame for effect.

Kel’dan nodded quietly, reaching for her neck to assess the damage again. If it was perhaps not as bad as he thought-

Rani batted his hand away. “I’m not made of porcelain, Kel’dan, nor am I a child. I _chose_ you. I know what you are, and I _like_ what you are. All of it. I welcome it - I welcome you in whatever form you want to … distract me.” She closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around his neck. Even in the low light, he could see the smile curving her mouth.

Kel’dan lost himself in the sweet taste of her lips then, lifting her from the ground so they could kiss more easily. Ever since she had told him he didn’t always need to be _nice_ , his inner Orc had been champing at the bit, but he had been haunted by its last sortie, which had ended with Rani crying. There was some work ahead of him to find a balance, but he was beginning to see that he would never escape the other half of his soul, and that perhaps he didn’t have to. Tonight, he had allowed free rein to the darker side of his id and Rani had loved it. Maybe he could let it out a little more often. It was part of his nature after all, and it was apparently quite adept at disrupting the young mage’s concentration. 

_Obviously._

Kel’dan couldn’t suppress a chuckle at that.

“Keep up the good work,” Rani murmured against his lips as though sensing his thoughts. “Keep distracting me like that and I’ll be able to concentrate in an apocalypse.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this all makes sense! I’ve been trying to drop hints about his inner struggle with the duality of his nature throughout recent chapters but I’m never sure if it makes sense to anyone but me (because I have all the plot notes and you don’t!). XD


	15. An Ending and a Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kel goes hunting.

Late the following morning, after a few hours of peaceful sleep in Rani’s arms, Kel’dan set off on a hunt. He had a side agenda to scout the local area and check for further signs of assassins or the Order of the Red Hand, but he did not tell his companion for fear he would worry her. Moreover, he had a strange yearning to hunt, and he wanted to track something large and feisty. He wanted to bring it home to his mate and show he could provide for her. He wanted to use every part of it; to tan its hide and make soft fur boots for her for the coming winter; to cut bits of horn or hoof and carve them into trinkets to delight her; to fill her belly with good, rich meat to keep her strong for what was to come.

Cautiously, Kel let the trail of desires unwind in his mind’s eye. It was not as aggressive or sexually-charged as the thoughts he had been trying so hard to suppress of late, and he found he rather liked the concepts. Perhaps when he wasn’t trying to quash his natural instincts, they could be channelled more positively. Feeling more relaxed than he had done in quite some time, he set out into the depths of the forest, and his task was quickly accomplished. With a sense of satisfaction and pride, he hoisted the bloody carcass of the juvenile clefthoof across his shoulders and began to whistle as he turned his steps towards home. 

He was still whistling as he edged past the open gate, nodding a greeting to the horse and stepping light-footedly toward the front porch. As the interior of the cottage hove into view through the open door, Kel’dan spotted another figure in the room with Rani. The figure was clearly male, and it was standing intimately close to his mate. His recent reconciling of his more aggressive impulses notwithstanding, Kel’dan was unprepared for the wave of pure, possessive fury that swept over him. He could not see Rani’s face: she was mostly hidden by the dark figure between them, but he could hear her voice, low and grating in threat and warning. He was about to ditch his prey and charge at the intruder when a rustle to his left alerted him to an enemy in the garden with him. Whirling, crouching, he avoided the assassin’s first attack and smacked him across the face with the butt end of the dead clefthoof, flooring him. Tossing his kill aside, he fell upon the prone figure and began to rain sledgehammer blows on his face until he felt cartilage pop and bone crack. There was no time to indulge the violent impulses that swept through him. With the assassin disabled, he leaped up and sprinted into the cottage. 

There were two dark-clad men inside, one threatening his lover and the other hanging back, watching the door. Sol had gone too far. The vengeful Lord had hunted them down in their idyllic little homestead, ending its security forever. _They would have to leave_. As that thought became truth in his mind, Kel’dan saw red. The closest assailant’s throat was in his grasp a second later, and he braced his other hand against the unfortunate man’s shoulder as he tore out his larynx in a spray of blood and tendons. 

“Kel!” 

The half-orc swung his head towards his mate’s alarm cry, teeth bared, eyes wild, and he saw something in Rani react at the sight of him. He would evaluate that later.

“Get him outside!” she ordered, gesturing at the remaining enemy.

He glared at her in defiance. There was nothing he wanted more right now than to to tear the other intruder to pieces, to sate himself on the sights and smells of fear, to hear bone crack and tendon tear, to feel the hot spray of death-blood on his face; to kill the one that _dared_ threaten his Rani. He met her gaze and his breath caught in his throat. Her eyes were on fire. They glowed and sparked and boiled with flame, and around her head, the swarm of fireflies had reappeared, angrily circling and extending into vertical lines in the semblance of a fiery crown. 

“I’m not going to burn the damned house down after we worked so hard on it!” she snapped.

On some level, the blood-crazed half-orc registered and understood the words, and he grabbed the remaining assassin by the scruff of the neck and the back of the trousers, and catapulted him through the door. The man sailed clear over the porch and went tumbling onto the path, where he collided with the comrade Kel’dan had floored earlier. Rani stalked past her lover with eyes and hair aflame and his mouth hung slack at the sight of her. Although the vision was a little unsettling, his chest swelled with pride at the terrible beauty of her. His mate was magnificent at that moment in time, with the fire inside her desperate to be released, and so potent he could feel the heat radiating from her three feet away. Once she had left the porch, Rani loosed her flames in a sheet of white-hot fury that torched the two stunned killers and seared a black circle of dead vegetation for ten feet around them. The horse snapped its tether in fright and galloped off to the safety of the rear garden.

Calming, but still breathing hard from exertion and adrenaline, Kel’dan moved to stand at Rani’s side, laying an arm across her shoulders and tilting his head in acknowledgment of their success. Her practicing - and his encouragement and aid in focusing and growing her abilities - had borne fiery fruit. The assassins were dead, and she had managed not to burn down their cottage, but it was a short-lived victory, marred by the significance of the day’s events. 

“We can’t stay here, can we?” Rani’s voice was strangely flat and dull, and at odds with the vibrant creature that had just incinerated their enemies.

“No,” admitted Kel’dan after a few moments’ introspection. “If this group found us, they either already know where we are, or it’s only a matter of time until the next group tracks us down. It’s a shame,” he sighed, turning to stare wistfully into the dark interior of the little home they had made. “I really liked this place.” He turned back to Rani and squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll find somewhere else, and be just as happy as we were here.”

Rani stared despondently at the blackened corpses of the assassins, her thoughts her own. 

“Happier even,” suggested Kel’dan. She was silent for such a long time that he began to wonder if she was ever going to respond.

“He’s not going to stop, Kel.” Her voice was thin and her tone resigned. “I should just go back.”

“ _Go back_?” The half orc sidestepped and turned her to face him. “He’s out for blood, Rani. If you go back now, he’ll execute you!”

She shook her head sadly. “They’re going to hunt us - hunt _you_ \- because of me.” Tears were welling in her eyes, but her face was set in rigid, determined lines that made him fear she would do as she threatened. He understood and admired her selfless desire, but it was a path with only one destination, and he would be damned if he would let her set foot on it. 

Kel’dan cupped Rani’s face in his hands, holding her gaze as he spoke in earnest. “I would rather live my entire life on the run with you than spend a single day in comfort and safety without you.” Even as the words emerged, he knew they were true, and he was reminded again of his namesake in his mother’s stories. “We’ll go to Thunder Bluff as we planned. We’ll be safe there.” 

“But he’s never going to leave us alone,” Rani argued. “He’ll find us, Kel. I don’t think you realise how determined he is. I hate to say it but we could even be putting your Tauren friends in danger.”

“I don’t think even Sol is fool enough to go up against an entire Tauren tribe,” scoffed the half-orc, but he only half believed it. Rani shook her head, shaking tears from her eyelashes while the little swarm of fireflies dissipated. 

“Hey.” Kel’dan tilted her chin up so she looked him in the eye. “I don’t want to hear any more talk about you running off back to Stormwind. It’s you and me, always. Whatever this world throws at us.” He held her gaze until she reluctantly assented, but still the half-orc fretted she might do something ill-advised in an attempt to spare his life. How different this Rani was from the young woman with whom he had travelled barely a month ago. If anyone had told him back in the days when she had called him ‘greenskin’ and thrown her dinner at him that she would be prepared to sacrifice herself to save him just a few weeks later, he would have thought them insane. He drew the young mage close and wrapped her in his arms, dropping his lips to the top of her head and inhaling deeply. Rani wiped away a tear and stood on tiptoes to kiss him in a way that made the young half-orc’s heart hammer, and brought the salacious whispers forth again in his head. They were far less intrusive than they had been the night before, however. Perhaps his inner Orc realised this was not the time. They needed to leave now, tonight, and after a quick gathering of essentials and some time to recapture the horse, Kel’dan and Rani left the little cottage, never to return.

Their plan was to head west and catch a zeppelin to Kalimdor. The route was dangerous and would bring them to within twenty miles of Stormwind, but it was the fastest way off the continent, and they both agreed the speed was worth the risk. They rode in shifts, and they were soon back in their old routine of camping in the woods, and taking staggered watches. This time however, they took an even share of the camp setup, and the atmosphere between them was loving and teasing, albeit overshadowed by urgency and fear. A few days’ ride brought them to the outskirts of the Orc village where Rani was taken by her kidnappers, and Kel’dan’s stomach plummeted as he spotted the plumes of smoke and smelled the carrion-stench of death. In unspoken agreement, they both mounted and rode around the outskirts, coughing from the acrid fumes. Everywhere there was carnage and destruction, and everywhere the symbol of the Red Hand. It seemed Sol had finally taken his revenge for her kidnapping. They picked up the pace and cantered out of the far side of the smoking ruin, passing a vignette of loss where a male Orc with a scorched face hunkered over a dead mate, scowling at Rani and Kel’dan as they passed. 

“So much death,” murmured the young woman, gripping her lover’s fingers where they held the reins. “So much hatred. Where does it end?” 

Kel’dan had no answer for her. 

The days wore on, and as they approached the port town where they would board the zeppelin for a new life, they began to see a disturbing increase in the Order of the Red hand’s activities. It was clear their influence was spreading, and that an undercurrent of anti-Orc sentiment had always been there, bubbling beneath a veneer of tolerance. Everywhere they went, there was talk of raided villages, of persecution, of peaceful communities torn apart, and of orc-kind being driven out or killed. It seemed unlikely that Sol Maelstrom could have rallied such a far-reaching force in the few weeks since they had fled Stormwind together, but if Rani’s assessment of his hatred was accurate, who knew how long he had been plotting and waiting for the right excuse to start up his campaign? It troubled Kel’dan in no small measure to admit it, especially given that they were on another continent, but he felt he should warn his people about the rise of the Red Hand.  
  
The flight to Kalimdor was uneventful, and Kel’dan was pleased to find that Rani’s spirits lifted considerably as the coast receded, distancing them from Lord Malestrom’s eye and reach. Kel’dan found vicarious enjoyment in his mate’s delight as she took her first aerial voyage across the wide ocean, marvelling at the sapphire waters, the leaping sea-life and the exotic birds that brought colour to every day of their travels. They resumed their journey on land with a newly-purchased mount, but almost as soon as they set out, they found a vandalised Orc shrine at the roadside, daubed with a garish red hand. Kel’dan was silent that night as they camped in the wild, and his whittling fingers stilled often as he lost himself in dark thoughts.

At the end of their second week on Kalimdor, they finally reached their destination. Rani dismounted as the settlement came into view, mostly hidden behind twin gates large enough to keep out a colossus. Her fingers entwined with Kel’dan’s as they ambled towards the entrance, and before long, he noted her curious glances as they began to see the local inhabitants. 

“There are more Orcs here than I expected,” she commented at last. “I thought the Tauren didn’t like outsiders?”

Kel’dan bit his lip and kept his eyes on the road. “We’re not going to Thunder Bluff,” he said.

Rani did a little double take. “Then where are we going?”

“Home. I’m going to ask for sanctuary.”

They walked a few more steps in silence. “Why didn’t you tell me your plans had changed?” asked the mage. It was a reasonable enough question. 

“I… wasn’t sure until we got here that I was going to go through with it. But you were right. I’d be putting the Bloodhoof clan in danger - we’re better off here.”

Rani looked at him askance. “If Sol finds out we’re sheltering with an Orc tribe, it’ll give him a reason to ramp up his recruitment, or send more assassins. You saw the Red Hand on that shrine - the Order may already have a presence here.”

“It’s still our best chance,” Kel’dan countered, nodding as though to convince himself of the fact.

Rani’s gaze never left him as we walked along, but he just couldn’t look her in the eye. 

“You’ve never talked about going home as an option, Kel, in fact you’ve barely mentioned your family - or your -er - tribe - at all.”

“I love my folks.” He trudged along for a few more steps, considering how to explain to his mate his reasons for leaving, the cowardice that dwelt in him, the guilt that ate at him. His cheeks flushed with shame. “But their way of life was not for me,” he managed eventually. Rani would find out about the rest soon enough. “Still, I have a duty to warn them about Sol’s army, given what we saw on Azeroth, and what we’ve seen since we arrived. We will be safe here, if they’ll accept us.”

“Why would they not accept you? What’s wrong here, Kel?” 

The half-orc’s face twisted with regret. “I didn’t part ways with my family on the best of terms. My mother will be angry, but I know she will offer us shelter. I’m not so sure about my father.”

Rani stopped and grasped Kel’dan’s upper arms, impressing upon him the seriousness of her words. “But we’d just be putting your family at risk rather than the Tauren. Are you sure about this, Kel? Sol would love another reason to go to war with Orcs.”

“It… wouldn’t be a wise move on his part,” Kel’dan replied, shaking his head and disengaging from her hands.

“But House Maelstrom’s army numbers in the hundreds, and he can call on other Houses for support. There could be as many as a thousand men if he puts his mind to it. I don’t want to put your people in danger,” Rani insisted.

Kel’dan laughed. An odd sound. A hollow sound. “He could come at us with an army of thirty thousand and it wouldn’t even make a dent.”

Rani shot him a baffled glance. Kel’dan shook his head and gestured towards the gates, his face drawn in lines of concern. As they walked side by side into the city, the atmosphere began to sour, with aggressive glares from passers-by, and mutters of unkind names Kel’dan had hoped never to hear again. _Half-breed. Mongrel._ Most paid them no mind. A gaggle of Orc children raced alongside them for a while, giggling and waving, and he grinned back, glad to see some welcoming faces. They passed the gates into the shadow of the proud towers of the immense city, where tens of thousands of warriors and all those that supported them lived, trained and worked. It was even bigger than he remembered, but then in three years, much had likely changed.

“Kel, what is this place? Who are your people?” Rani demanded.

He took her hand, unwilling or perhaps unable to give voice to the answer. He wasn’t sure he even knew himself any more. He could see his companion watching him, raising inquisitive glances each time they entered a new district or passed a new side street. She was likely wondering where his parents were. There was only one place they would be. At length, they reached the heart of the city, the Chiefs’ Circle, where the tribal leaders of each faction that had united under the banner of the Chief of Chiefs met, exchanged news, and planned. While the rest of the settlement followed more civilised lines with well-planned streets, stone towers and bridges, and drinking houses without number, here at the beating heart of the city, where momentous decisions were debated and taken, the atmosphere of primitive tribalism was at its strongest. Here, all was _Orc_.

Talks were in full flow this evening, and the low hubbub of voices reached his ears as he approached, bringing with it a sense of forgotten familiarity and a longing for simpler times. Kel’dan had planned to edge around the Circle to where he could see his parents, and catch his mother’s eye. He had no such good fortune. He was recognised by those on the periphery as he drew near, and one by one, the crowd parted to let him through, bowing their heads and raising their fists to their chests as he passed.

The discussion petered out as Kel’dan stepped out into the Circle, scrutinised by inquisitive, judgmental eyes. The weight of his shame crushed him, and impelled him to flee, but he had a responsibility to Rani, to keep her safe. He also felt a rising sense of duty towards his people, to inform them about the Order of the Red Hand, and of their vendetta against Orc kind. The half-orc’s heart jumped then at the sight of the tall, regal figure of his mother rising to her feet, her face flooded with a mix of relief and and anger. He suspected he would be in for a well-deserved earful later. The very sight of her triggered a slew of memories and emotions: how could he have shut her from his mind, thrust aside the love she had shown him her entire life, and left her in the dark not knowing his fate? His atonement would have to wait. They were in the Chiefs’ Circle now, and all eyes were on them. 

He glanced around at the place where he had spent so many of his evenings, and the familiarity strengthened. Every detail was just as his shining childhood memories had sketched them in his mind: the chieftains sat in their allotted places around the huge central fire, which was always kept alight. The banner of each clan that had bowed to the greater cause hung in ranks from poles and lines, almost too many to count, and he could still name most of them by sight. And there, on a raised seat above the Chiefs’ Circle sat the source of Kel’dan’s fear, and the reason for his night-terrors: the formidable figure of his father, Ulag. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :P 
> 
> Congrats to all the smartypantses who figured it out. 
> 
> If you’ve no idea what I’m talking about, this story (despite the weird way the AO3 Series function seems to have set this as #1 of 2) is a sequel to my Orc Before Breakfast fic.


	16. A Mother's Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rani makes some new friends.

Rani had once observed her brother, Sol, torturing one of his indentured servants. The man had spoken out of turn and made him lose face in front of his peers. The unfortunate had been summoned before Lord Maelstrom later that day to determine his punishment, and Sol had made him wait in cold, unwelcoming silence until Rani herself was squirming in sympathy with the poor man. When Kel’dan stepped forward into the huge circle at the centre of the Orc city, the atmosphere was identical. The genial murmurs of conversation faded, to be replaced by a stony quiet, broken only by a few sharp whispers. The fire crackled and spat, lighting the fierce, tusked faces around them and casting them into flickering, hostile shadow. Her eyes were drawn naturally to the figure that presided over the gathering in equally unwelcoming silence. The Orc Chieftain, for such she assumed him to be from his position, was utterly terrifying. He sat unmoving on a raised platform as though carved in jade, banners whipping all around him, and the skulls of many and varied creatures littered at his feet. His hair was black, but there was iron at his temples, and his dark hide was criss-crossed with scars; he was a full Orc in every sense of the word.

The Orc Chief had fixed her lover with a baleful glare the moment they had entered the circle, and she quickly noted that the eyes of those assembled were flicking between him and Kel’dan as though wondering which of them would speak first. 

“Father.” Rani’s mouth dropped open in surprise as he addressed the Orc Chief. She did not know the half-orc half as well as she had believed. If this city-state of thousands was ruled by a single being, what did that make him? A prince? A Chief-in-waiting? Heir to a war-horde of mythic proportions? If that was so, what in the world had he been doing wandering around Stormwind whittling wood? Rani realised he had already answered her: _their way of life was not for me_ , and moreover there was evidently some bad blood between her lover and his father. Even now, a single glance in the huge Orc’s direction showed his teeth bared in a snarl and his eyes narrowed to slits. No wonder Kel’dan was so afraid of him. She wondered what sort of tyrant he must be to scare her brave companion so, and he rose even higher in her estimation for having braved his evil father’s wrath to bring them here to beg for sanctuary.

“Mother,” said Kel’dan, his voice wavering ever so slightly. He bowed his head to the tall, slender woman who stood at his father’s side. She at least inclined her head in greeting. Rani could already see what Kel’dan had meant about the reception he was expecting. His guess had not fallen short of the mark.

“I bring news.”

The Orc Chief’s expression did not change. There was not a flicker of emotion, neither happiness at seeing his son, nor any other acknowledgment of his presence save for the curl of his broad lip. 

Kel’dan spoke for a long time, telling of the rising threat of the Order of the Red Hand, of the destruction of Orc lands they had witnessed in and around Stormwind, and the persecution they had suffered first hand. He also told of the signs they had seen since they had been on Kalimdor, and his concerns that what they had observed heralded the birth of a darker movement, a surge of anti-Orc sentiment that would soon manifest itself in bolder and more deadly ways. Rani was both shocked and filled with admiration with the way he addressed the crowd; with a natural confidence and a strong, clear voice. He presented his arguments with clarity, and turned often to address all areas of the Circle, leaving no-one out. When at last he had finished, the assembled chieftains began to murmur to one another, and Rani saw more than one head nodding in agreement.

A huge, bald-headed brute with a broken tusk and a broken nose rose to his feet when Kel’dan fell silent, his eyes as beady and bright as jewels. Tattoos and scars covered his skin in equal proportions, and he hefted a warhmammer in his hand that was almost as tall as she was. Rani wondered whether this was the end of them.

“You came all the way back here to tell us _that_ , knowing the fate that awaited you?” the Orc growled. The crowd was silent. Kel’dan’s parents still had not moved, and Rani wondered if they were happy to let this little scene play out and watch their son die before them.

“Yes,” said Kel’dan. 

The older Orc’s face morphed inexplicably from a scowl to a grin. “Then I think it’s past time we had a talk.” He strode across to the pair of them, huge booted feet making the earth shake as he walked. He towered over her love, dropping a hand the size of a shovel blade onto Kel’dan’s shoulder with an audible thud. “It’s good to have you back, Kel,” and with that, the huge green brute gave her unsuspecting companion a hug that was part head-lock, part slap on the back, and turned to the figures at the raised dais with a broad smile, tossing his head in query.

The woman nodded curtly, but the Orc at her side remained silent on the matter. “Bring meat and ale,” she called out, her voice strong and clear as it rang out across the great Circle. “My son has returned - tonight we feast!” 

There were some grumblings, and some yells of approval, but the atmosphere was generally positive, and Rani surmised Kel’dan had both a number of allies and enemies amongst those assembled. Even as she turned to question him with her gaze, Kel’dan’s mother descended from the platform and stalked across the ground towards them as people hurried to do her bidding. The bald-headed Orc released Kel’dan from his head-lock and ruffled his hair playfully, shoving him towards his mother. The woman pulled him instantly into her embrace, and hugged him tightly, an action that Kel’dan returned with equal fervour. She then pushed him from her and slapped his shoulder in mock-reproof. Kel’dan smiled a relieved and guilty smile.

“You’ll be the death of me,” the woman admonished, shaking her head in chagrin. “Running off without saying goodbye, or letting me know you were alive.”

Beside her, the male Orc laughed and dipped his head respectfully, leaving them to their reunion with a wink in her lover’s direction. There was perhaps more of a welcome here than either she or Kel’dan had first thought.

“You’re well?” asked Kel’dan’s mother. “You look well.” She commented.

“I’m fine, mother.” He paused, then pulled Rani to his side. “This is Rani. Rani, this is my mother, Thalia.”

The older woman looked down at their hands, joined and gripping tightly, and her face lit with a knowing smile. She embraced the young woman warmly, and Rani found she had to crane her neck to look up at her. The young mage herself was fairly short, barely coming up to Kel’s chest, and the older woman seemed positively statuesque. She was surely as tall as her brother, Sol, and she carried herself with a fluid grace, despite her advanced years. Her hair was braided like that of an orcess, and her clothing, though rich with embellishments and heavy with quality, was clearly styled with a sense of Orcish fashion. Unlike most Orcs, however, she wore little jewelry, save for a single, simple claw pendant around her neck. 

“It’s good to meet you, Rani. Thank you for looking after him.” While Kel’dan rolled his eyes, she asked in a conspiratorial fashion, “What would they do without us?” and Rani joined her in an appreciative chuckle. 

“I’m sure you’d like to rest and bathe - if I know my son he’s been marching you along full-pelt for days without a thought for comfort,” Thalia teased. 

Rani accepted eagerly. Not only did what Kel’dan’s mother propose sound heavenly, but she would relish some time alone to evaluate all she had learned in the last hour. She turned to ask Kel’dan for her belongings from his pack, to find her lover’s gaze drawn again to the distant figure of his father. Thalia followed his eyes. Under their joint scrutiny, the Orc chief rose to his feet and descended to greet some of the other chieftains who awaited him before the firepit. He paid his wife and son no more mind and was soon engaged in serious conversation. Beside her, Kel’dan sighed heavily and hung his head.

Thalia began to steer Rani off towards some stone buildings behind the dais and waggled her hand at her son. “I want to hear _everything_ , but in the meantime, go see Urmuk and your uncle.”

“And… Father?”

Thalia paused and gave a resigned sigh, but her face betrayed her lack of optimism. “I will speak to him.” Rani could have sworn she heard the tall woman mutter ‘grumpy old bugger’ under her breath as they walked off towards the stone buildings. Kel’dan’s mother chattered away as she showed Rani where she could find all she needed in the bath-house, asking very few questions of her own, a boon for which Rani was grateful. She left her to her ablutions, advising her of where she could be found later, and Rani took the opportunity to relax in the steaming waters and finally clean the dust and grime of the road from her skin. Later, dressed in fresh clothes but still vexed at Kel’dan’s reasons for hiding huge parts of his life from her, she stepped back out into the Circle, where the feast was in full flow. With the more informal nature of this festive gathering, Rani began to see a more diverse spread of peoples, with representatives of most of the races of Azeroth mingling, talking and laughing around the huge fire-pit. There were a few notable exceptions who appeared to be taking her lover’s return with less enthusiasm, but they were no less willing to partake of the food and drink on offer.

She spotted Kel’dan deep in conversation with the enormous Orc who had first greeted him, along with a creature the like of which she had never seen. His build was similar to Kel’dan’s - more than human, but less than Orc - but there the similarity ended. Twin horns protruded from his forehead, his eyes glowed a luminous yellow, as though twin suns shone from his face, and his skin was a shade of light teal. He and Kel’dan were evidently friends, and the three sat in close, amused conversation. Her lover raised his hand in greeting, but before she could respond or approach him, Thalia called to her and invited her to join them. Long years of training in the niceties of court came to the fore, and Rani smiled graciously as she found a seat with Kel’dan’s mother. Thalia introduced her to a Draenei called Nati and two of her children - both of whom bore a striking resemblance to the teal-skinned creature talking to Kel’dan - and the three quickly fell into easy conversation. Rani had not expected to find much in common with these women, but Nati was a mage, and Thalia had grown up as a Lady, and had at least some sympathy for what Rani had endured travelling through the wilds with her half-orc companion.

After an hour or so of chatting with these women who had been strangers before this evening, Rani soon realised how starved she had been of like-minded female company. Apart from Brand and Sol, with whom she spent much of her time, the ladies of the Houses with whom she mingled were all of one mind, obsessed with wealth and gossip and heirs. They elevated their men to the status of godhood, something Rani always found bizarre. It was a relief to talk to women who, like her, saw their male companions for no more than that, who embraced magic and martial arts as Nati and Thalia evidently did, and resonated an easy grace that put Rani at ease. Already she felt more at home here in this wild Orc city in their company than she had in House Maelstrom since before her parents had died. Talk soon returned to life on the road, and Rani was not slow to notice the loaded glances the two women had been exchanging over the last few minutes, although for the life of her, she could not guess at their meaning.

“It’s harder for a woman,” commented Thalia, with a sidelong glance at Nati. “Those half-wits don’t appreciate the extra little hardships we face when we travel with them.” Her words were slanderous, but her tone was affectionate.

Rani nodded and munched at the sliced cheese on her platter. She was ravenous tonight, although as Kel’dan’s mother had correctly guessed, they had been travelling for the better part of the day, with barely a stop for food.

“How have you fared?” asked her Draenei companion. Then after a short pause, she leaned in and asked, “How has the _moon_ been treating you?”

Rani was lost for a moment. “The moon?” Was this perhaps some odd Draenei custom or peculiarity of speech? She chewed on a slice of meat thoughtfully as she considered how to respond. A glance at Thalia showed she was awaiting her response with the same avid curiosity. Rani’s chewing slowed. Understanding dawned. Her face fell. When the mind does not wish to consider or accept a fact, we can be quite adept at hiding from the most obvious signs. She and Kel’dan had been on the road all told for a couple of months, and indulging themselves with not a thought for the consequences. For one reason or another: the stresses of their escape and living on the run, or the flush of romance that accompanies love’s early bloom, the absence of certain physiological events had failed to register with her. As she sat still in shock, Nati and Thalia exchanged a sympathetic glance. The Draenei rose and approached her and with Rani’s permission, laid a hand on her belly, closing her eyes.

“Congratulations,” she smiled.

Rani would not have moved in that instant had a hurricane come and obliterated the city.

“Don’t worry. We have a great midwife,” Thalia reassured her.

“And you’re small, but it’ll only be a quarter orc,” laughed Nati. “You’ll be fine. Trust us.”

Rani’s thoughts whirled. This was happening too fast, but at the same time, she seemed to have found a welcome of sorts here, and she was already growing to like her company. She needed time to assimilate this, but was also aware of the importance of forging stronger bonds with her new friends. She struck upon a topic that she knew every potential mother-in-law loved, without exception, one that linked closely with her condition, and which would give her time to think while Kel’dan’s mother talked. 

“Tell me - about Kel’dan when he was a baby,” she suggested.

Thalia’s face darkened and Nati reached for her shoulder. Rani blanched, wondering if she had made some horrific faux pas, but Thalia shrugged her friend’s hand off with a reassuring smile.

“I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to-” blurted Rani.

Thalia shook her head. “You did nothing wrong, and there’s no reason you shouldn’t know. Kel was taken from me the moment he was born.”

Rani’s jaw fell open. In the many dozens of hours she and Kel’dan had spent in conversation, he had never told her this. What else had he hidden from her? She was starting to feel she would spend the night with an utter stranger.

“It took us a year to find him and win him back,” added Nati. She fell silent then as Thalia told Rani her story; that she had consented to a marriage for martial gain, but at the same time, she had fallen in love with Ulag, Kel’dan’s Orc father, and conceived a child with him. She told how her jealous husband had then spirited her away from her lover, kept her imprisoned until the child was born, then threatened to kill him before Thalia’s very eyes. She recounted that he had instead sent the baby away with some unknown agent, and it had taken Ulag and five hundred of his friends and allies to track down both Thalia and Kel’dan, and free them both from her husband’s clutches. 

“But you’ll have no such worry, child. Never fear,” Nati reassured her, to assuage the look of distress on the younger mage’s face as the story unfolded.

Thalia had brightened somewhat after telling the end of the story, and quipped, “Unless you have a crazy husband hell-bent on wrecking your life for you and your Orc lover.”

While the two women chuckled together, Rani felt the colour drain from her cheeks. “I do have a fiancé,” she began. “He rides with my brother to start war with Orc-kind. Kel defeated him in the arena and became my Champion, so there’s some bad blood there. I don’t know that he’s mad enough to do anything like that, but with my brother whispering in his ear, I’m not so certain.”

“Well, they will gain no ground here,” Thalia reassured her. “The city is well defended. They’d have to fight their way through tens of thousands to get to you.”

Rani’s mind wheeled again, filling with fear and harsh memories. She knew Sol wouldn’t give up the hunt for them as long as he lived. She was a representative of House Maelstrom, and she was out here in the full glare of the public eye _fraternising_ with an Orc - and now she carried his child. If Sol had been mortified before, the bounty on her head would surely be doubled now. Again, the image of Kel’dan lying dead at Sol’s hand, this time with Sol’s face scarred and melted where she had burned him - appeared strong and clear in her mind’s eye. Without realising she was going to speak, the young mage suddenly found herself telling her listeners her own story. She told them that her brother had killed her first lover - an Orc called Gnoth - in front of her, and that she had been forced to hide her feelings in order to allay suspicion. The words came out in a flood, raw and unexpected. She had told no-one but Kel’dan of this, and as empathetic as he might have been, he still had a vested interest in her former lover not being around any more. It was a relief to be able to share her story with impartial ears. 

Rani flinched as Thalia moved to sit beside her, unprepared for the motherly embrace that followed. Tears stung her eyes as once more, emotions and memories long suppressed rose to the surface, but this time, there was the comfort of an experienced female presence, and Rani was overwhelmed. She had not realised until that moment how much a mother’s support would have helped her deal with Gnoth’s murder, and the barriers and self-support mechanisms she had built up over the years dispersed like so much smoke. The tears streamed from her as she spoke her deepest fear. 

“I-I keep seeing Kel dead at Sol’s hand. If I _caused_ that to happen, I could never…” she broke off, choked by her own sobs.

“My poor child. My poor sweet child.” Thalia murmured soothing words as she stroked the young woman’s hair, and for a few moments, Rani allowed herself to be comforted while her small frame shook with emotion. 

Presently, she pulled herself reluctantly from the older woman’s embrace, embarrassed at her loss of control. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I’ve made such a fool of myself. I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to tell you all that or-” she trailed off, gazing intently at her hands where they lay folded in her lap.

“I’m glad you told us. Here - Nati’s herb teas are legendary,” advised Thalia as the older mage returned with a steaming mug.

“There’s a little something extra in it. Help you relax,” the Draenei advised with a wink.

Rani took the mug gratefully and took a deep draught, recognising hints of honey and cinnamon, and something tart she could not identify. She felt calmer almost instantly and brought herself back under control with one deep, shuddering breath. She was glad Kel’dan and his friends were hidden from sight by the press of bodies between them; it was bad enough she had lost her composure and embarrassed herself in front of his mother without him seeing it too.

“Are you going to tell him tonight?” Kel’dan’s mother queried, chancing a glance through the crowd to the males on the other side of the firepit.

Rani nodded. “Although I think I’d like to do it in private,” she said. 

“If I know my son, he’ll be thrilled,” the older woman advised her. “But of course, whatever feels right.” 

A silence fell then, broken by the raucous laughter and deep-voiced discussion all around them. Nati spoke up at last. “You’ve seemed ill at ease, little one, since we told you.”

Rani turned the mug around in her hands, considering her words, but her brain was sluggish, likely a result of whatever the mage had put in her tea. “I always knew this was my lot in life - I just didn’t expect it to start so soon.”

At Thalia’s questioning glance, Rani added, “To churn out heirs.”

Thalia sat back in surprise and shook her head incredulously. “To _churn out_... Your ‘lot’?” She turned to Nati and commented, “We have our work cut out for us here.” Turning back to Rani, the older woman said, “It’s a shame we live in this world so driven by male values, that celebrates and elevates based on brute strength. They so often end up in control, when in truth it is we who have the true power. Creating a life is a miraculous thing, Rani. Some men admire us for it, some envy us. Some try to control it, seeing it as a limitless power that they could never have, so they try to restrict it, to define rules and laws around it to try to lessen its potency and the impotence they feel compared to us.”

Rani sat with her mouth agape. She had never heard such words coming from a woman. They sounded like heresy - her brother at the very least would have thought so. And Thalia was not yet done.

“But ‘churning out heirs’ is not our sole purpose, Rani. Do you know how many times Nati and I have talked our two very own idiots over there out of doing something fucking stupid?” Rani gasped as the older woman cursed. It was just not something women _did_ , in her experience. “Don’t get me wrong,” she continued, “I love the two of them to bits, but without our influence, they’d probably be long dead.” Beside her, Nati nodded in amused agreement. 

Thalia leaned forward, elbows on her knees, impressing upon Rani the importance of her words. “In my experience, behind every strong male figure, there is a stronger female one, guiding their path. Once they’re on course, they fly true, but sometimes they just need a little - redirection. In a world dominated by those with physical strength, _that_ is how we influence, _that_ is how we bring about change.”

Rani’s mind was positively alive with new ideas, and foremost among them was the realisation that she had not had motherly guidance in her life in a long time, and this warrior chieftess was giving her the mentoring she had been missing.

“Speaking of strength, Nati senses you are a powerful fire mage, and with a little more guidance you could be … formidable.”

Rani paused with the mug half-way to her lips. “No-one but Kel has ever encouraged me to do that. I won’t have to … give it up?” Sol’s words about abandoning her fire magic when she was wed and with child resounded in her mind, and often haunted her dreams. Now that circumstance was here, was her newly-rekindled love of the arcane arts about to be rescinded once again?

“Why would you do that?” spluttered Thalia. “You’re already strong and with a little guidance you will soon be a force to be reckoned with. Nati has already said she’ll help you, if you want.”

The Draenei nodded her implicit agreement. “I’m always happy to help an aspiring mage. And if there’s anything you want to know about how things work here, about our culture, how we live, just ask. It can be daunting, coming to a new life in a new community. Believe me, I know,” she said with a wry smile. As she blinked, her eyes dimmed, then reignited in a soft yellow glow that had Rani fascinated. 

There was one burning question that Rani wanted answered right now, one that tortured her daily and so she spoke up, emboldned by their encouragement. “Kel keeps calling me ‘kri’gor’, but he won’t tell me what it means.”

Thalia and Nati shared an amused glance, then burst out laughing. Thalia explained, “It literally means ‘red hair’ or ‘flame hair’, so it suits your colouring,” she informed her. With a further sly grin at her companion, she added, “But it's often used as a slang term for 'hot-head'”.

Rani gave a long suffering sigh, then, considering, shook her head and drained her mug with a chuckle. “I suppose I deserve that.”  
  
That night, when the main body of the clan leaders had gone and the revellers had trailed off, Rani, Nati and Thalia remained with their respective partners around the firepit. Rani listened to the flow of the conversation with half an ear, still a little fuzzy-headed from Nati’s tea, and ensconced comfortably in Kel’dan's warm embrace. Despite her lack of focus, she was more than a little shocked at the openness of the conversation she had heard tonight. Unlike the cultured, structured but often restricted conversations of Court, here it seemed no topic was taboo, and they spoke with an easy familiarity that bordered on insulting at times. She quickly came to realise that no insult was intended, and this was simply their way of showing affection and demonstrating the strength of their bonds, whether friendly or romantic. It was noticeable, even in her mildly intoxicated state that Kel’dan and his father had not exchanged words and when Ulag once more did not respond to a comment from his son that was clearly intended to draw him into the conversation, the bald brute who Rani had come to know as Torug spoke up, apparently with no concern at all for his own skin.

“Grumpy fucker,” he spat in Ulag’s direction. “You need to get laid. You not seeing to him, Thalia?” he asked, tossing his head in the direction of the woman who was, ostensibly queen of all she surveyed.

Kel’dan’s mother shook her head and drained her drinking horn. “I told him - not until he shaves that bumfluff off his face.” 

Rani looked to the Orc chief again. He had a chest-length beard, banded with brass rings, black as the rest of his hair save a single iron-grey stripe down the front. It didn’t _look_ like bumfluff.

Everyone broke into humoured laughter, except Ulag. The enormous Orc lowered his drinking horn to his knee, turned to his chieftess and said, “Come over here and say that to my face, _woman_.”

Rani tensed. Was this why Kel’dan was so afraid of his father? Was the orc a bully to his mother? Perhaps he had fled in frustration at not being able to stand up to him and prevent him from harming her. Then again, from what Rani had learned about Thalia tonight, she doubted the woman would stand for any sort of abuse. She was proven correct a moment later as without hesitation, Kel’dan’s mother stood, walked right up to the Orc and poked him hard in the centre of his chest.

“ _Bumfluff_.”

Rani started as the drinking horn spilled onto the floor. The Orc chief stood, threw his mate over his shoulder and stalked off towards the large building directly behind his raised seat. 

“Pair of bloody teenagers,” muttered Torug from the other side of the fire. “Still, maybe that’ll put a smile on his face for a bit.”

A few moments later, Kel’dan suggested they retire and Rani agreed quickly. It had been an exhausting day, and she had many, many things to discuss with her secretive lover. Imbued with a new sense of her own power, the young mage fully intended to play this situation to her advantage, and she swore Kel’dan would come clean about everything he had been hiding from her before she floored him with her news. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, I hope this works, makes sense, and flows with the rest of the story! :)


	17. Victim of Success

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kel'dan's parents discuss his return, and other things that affect the Orc city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, two in two days - but I wrote this weeks ago and just felt the need to share it. However, I'm a bit worried this might be a bit self-indulgent, so if you don't want to watch Kel'dan's parents having a massive argument, skip to the end where I've put a short summary. It makes more sense if you've read An Orc Before Breakfast first.

Ulag deposited his chieftess inside their dwelling and moved over to a small table set against one wall, pouring himself a fresh mug of beer. As he turned back towards her, Thalia warned him, "I meant what I said. Not till you get rid of that bumfluff.”   
  
Ulag grunted, sat down heavily and hid his face behind his beer mug.   
  
“Pretty sure I saw a family of owls nesting in it last night,” she commented. The Orc remained silent.   
  
“What steals my chieftain's sense of humour tonight?” she asked, striding to the table and pointedly pouring herself a drink since he had neglected to do so.   
  
“I spoke with the Blackheart clan again tonight,” he began, but Thalia cut him off almost immediately. 

“ _That’s_ how you’re going to start this conversation?” she demanded. Ulag raised an eyebrow at her and she shook her head and huffed in frustration. “Your son came home tonight after three years away. He came all the way back here from another _continent_ to tell us about a rising threat to all of Orc-kind, and you haven’t said a word to him, Ulag. Not one single word.”

“He didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know,” said Ulag dismissively, deftly avoiding her other accusation.

Thalia’s eyes widened. “There are many things I’ve called you over the years, Ulag, Chief of Ten Tribes, but I never thought ‘liar’ would be one of them.”

Fire burned in the Orc chief’s eyes and he lowered his drink to glower a warning at her. “ _Liar_?”

“Almost everything he said tonight was news to those in the Circle,” Thalia pointed out.

“They didn’t need to know,” growled Ulag.

“What? The extent of the problem?” Thalia stared at him incredulously. “Why are you keeping your own people in the dark?”

“I would have told them about the Red Hand when I’d decided on the best course of action,” he rumbled, taking another long swig from his tankard.

Thalia goggled at him. “When did this become a dictatorship? I thought the whole point of the Chief’s Circle was to make shared decisions.”

“There’s too much riding on this, Thalia!” Ulag snapped. “What we do here could shape our very future. It’s not something to be taken lightly: do we ride out and meet them in force, or take them down quietly?”

“I thought you had already decided on the latter. If you take your armies against the Red Hand, you’ll give them the attention they’re looking for and their deaths will make them martyrs. You’ll fuel the hatred of Orcs they’ve been stoking over the last few years. It was Grax Blackheart that put that idea in your head, and frankly I can’t believe you’re considering taking that idiot’s advice. You already let him and his friends talk too much in the Circle. He’s no leader, he doesn’t speak for his clan-”

“Not yet,” countered Ulag.

“He speaks for a group of disenfranchised idiots that you should have shut down and put in their place months ago," said Thalia.

Ulag took another long draught and batted at the air as though to dismiss her argument.

“They cause trouble at the Chiefs’ gatherings, speak out against your decisions, agitate for war against the Red Hand - and anyone and anything else that isn’t _Orc_. They're the reason the Tauren left us. You’ll lose their respect - and that of the other chiefs - if you just sit there and let it happen. Why didn’t you shut them down, Ulag?” 

“Because I’m not convinced they’re wrong, Thalia!”

Stunned into silence by his sudden outburst, Thalia watched her mate as he rose to his feet and paced about the chamber. His bulk made the room seem smaller, the ceilings lower, and she was reminded of the formidable strength he still wielded, despite his advanced years.  
  
“How long have we festered here?” he demanded. “How long has it been since we had a decent fight? Our armies are vast and powerful, and I cannot remember the last time we met with a people who gave us a good battle. Most just … _join_ us. It’s not good for an Orc’s soul. Our people are growing fat and weak, and the remainder are restless and spoiling for war.” Thalia watched him through narrowed eyes as he strode about their chamber.

“What is an orc without war?” he asked, looking down at his fist and clenching and releasing as he pondered. “It is what feeds us, makes us strong, keeps us free. Without it, we grow old and soft and degenerate, and die dishonoured in … _cages_.” He turned to face his mate, scowling at the intensity of his feelings. “The tale of Ulag Chief of Ten Tribes does not end with him too weak to wield an axe, and pissing his bed every night.”

“You do not dictate how that story ends, Ulag. Life will write it for you,” said Thalia gently.  
  
Ulag continued to stamp about the room like a caged animal, shortly gesturing to the walls, the furnishings and the world at large. “I never wanted this, Thalia. These walls are stone, like a _prison_.” His emphasis reminded her that she had found him in a jail, and freed him. Did he now feel she had imprisoned him again? “Grax is right," he averred. "We should take the fight to them.”   
  
Thalia shook her head vehemently. “That’s a green maneuver, Ulag. You know better than that. The decision you and Torug made - to let them throw themselves against the city if they come - was the right one. They will crash like waves against rock, and be washed away by the tide of warriors that will flow from our gates.”   
  
The great Orc stopped, and the ghost of a smile lit his lips, reminding Thalia how long it had been since she had truly seen him happy. “Very poetic. The Dust Lord, if I’m not mistaken.”

Thalia acknowledged his guess with a wry smile. It always was his favourite.

“But that desire, that warrior urge - to put down opposition, to raise a horde and claim what is yours by right of conquest and might - it’s in our _blood_. It was in my blood once, and that same need rises again,” Ulag continued.

“It’s a game for the young, Ulag.”

He rounded on her like a striking hellcat and she stepped back a pace at the force of his reaction. “You saying I'm too _old_? An orc who is too old to fight is too old to live.”

Thalia rolled her eyes. “Not this nonsense again. Let the young do the fighting, and those with experience direct their fury.”

Ulag scoffed and his face twisted in disgust at her suggestion. “There’s still fight in this old wolf, but here, I am caged. I cannot do what I was born to do; what I was made to do.”

Thalia tried to divert his thoughts to the positive outcomes their recent life had brought. “Everything you’ve built here is testament to your vision and your achievements. Look at what you’ve accomplished. What other Orc can say as much? This is a city to rival Orgrimmar-”  
  
“How the fuck did that happen, Thalia? That was never my plan!”   
  
“What do you _want_ , Ulag? Do you want to go back to living in a tent and picking a fight with your neighbours over who owns a cornfield? Where did you think the path of the conqueror would end? It ends in a _throne_. It ends in _golden shackles_ , in responsibility to all the people you've subjugated or who have cleaved to your path.”

He downed the rest of his tankard and slammed it on the table top, pacing in agitation before the fire. Thalia watched him for a while, sensing that this had been building and festering for a while, and that he had been quite adept at hiding it from her. She approached him and put a hand on his arm. He was tense, every corded muscle straining with the frustration that roiled in him.

“What is this really about?” she asked.

“I want to ride out in battle again,” came the quick response. It had evidently been front and centre in his mind, and for who knew how long. “But I am shackled, as you said, by responsibility. Who will hold power when I die? _Traditionally_ , it falls to the male heir.” Thalia scowled at his emphasis. “He’s not even been here for the last three years, and now he’s back - I don’t know that the tribes will accept him. He never completed his rite of passage, and…”

“And he’s not a full-blood Orc,” finished Thalia, her voice laden with sarcasm. 

“Thalia…”

“Save it. I know you love him, and you know it, but he doesn’t.”

Ulag’s jaw dropped, rendering his face almost comically bemused. “ _What_ …?”

“And when you say things like this - when I know these are the things that are going through your head, it’s no wonder he left. You’ve never given him a reason to stay, You don’t _believe_ in him, Ulag.”

“I just worry that when the time comes-”

“What? That he won’t have the brute strength to kill those lining up to take the throne from Ulag, Chief of Ten Tribes? And anything else that _belongs_ to him?” she taunted.

Ulag’s eyes shot up and he closed the distance between them, glowering down at her from his towering height. “ _Over my dead body_.” It came out in a low, grating growl that almost convinced Thalia to rescind her bumfluff-related sex-ban.

“I think that’s the general idea, my love.”   
  
Ulag ran his hand through his hair, full and long again as it had been when they were younger. He had long since done away with the shaved sides and dreadlocks: it was a symbol of his desire to return to an older time, a simpler time. He sat back down at the table, head bowed. When he raised his eyes, he spoke more softly than she had yet heard him speak tonight. “I promised to lay this world at your feet.”

“You did, my Chieftain. You named this enormous city after me, didn’t you?” she teased.

Ulag gave a reluctant smile at that, then sighed. “I feel like we’ve wandered from our path, set down roots when we should have continued to rove and reave. I have often wondered if you took this life because of me, against your better judgment, and that I’ve made you do things that are not in your nature.”

Thalia sat down opposite him, reaching for his hand across the small table, and stroking her fingers along his knuckles.“I wouldn’t have stayed if I hadn’t seen you do a lot of good in the process. Your methods are a little heavy-handed, but you’ve united warring factions, brought better living conditions to the places you’ve conquered, brought peace-”

“At a price,” he interjected.

“There’s always a price for peace.” She let him consider that for a while. Thalia had no idea her mate had been suffering so with the restrictions of the life they had built for themselves, and now, with the rise of the Red Hand, and their son’s return, these were problems they would have to face, but as with every other challenge life had thrown at them, they would face them together. There was however one trial that Ulag would have to face alone, and one that she intended to put pressure on him to fulfil.

“Why haven’t you spoken to him?”

Ulag withdrew his hand from her grasp and leaned back, his face clouded with negative thoughts once more. “You know what he did.”

Thalia recalled the incident in question: she thought about it daily, but they only had information from Grax Blackheart and his cronies, and in the absence of Kel’dan’s own testimony, they had nothing else to go on. Still, in Ulag’s heart, she knew the Blackheart upstart’s tale had become gospel, so for now she had to approach it as such. “So no-one should ever be forgiven for their mistakes?”

Ulag fixed her with a seething glare. “He couldn’t _face_ me, Thalia. Couldn’t tell me that he failed. Then he ran away without a word and didn’t come back for three whole years! If he can’t admit failure, learn from it, how can he ever lead?” It hurt Thalia’s heart to see the pain his disappointment in their son had caused, but she knew there was only one way he was going to get past it. 

“What did he think would happen?” Ulag went on. “That I would banish or beat him? What reason did I ever give him to fear me?”

“He wasn’t afraid of _you_ , you idiot, or what you might do to him.” They both knew full well Ulag had never raised his hand to either of them in anger; it was more likely that the sun would rise in the west. “He was afraid of _disappointing_ you. You’re a hard act to follow, Ulag, Chief of Ten Tribes. But if you saw him following in your footsteps, you were a fool.”

Ulag growled and waved his hand in the air to disparage the idea. “Course I fucking didn’t. I have met the boy.”

“And yet you’re still angry that he can’t - or won’t - stand in line for your throne. What do you _want_ from him, Ulag?”

The great orc shook his head and dry-washed his face with his hands. He had no answer for her, it seemed. Thalia practically growled with frustration. “If you don’t know, how the hell is he supposed to?”

“I want you two to be safe when I’m gone,” the Orc snapped.

“When you’re g- Where the hell are you going?” Again, he had no answer, but Thalia guessed from the confessions he had made tonight that he was spoiling for battle, and the Red Hand was going to give him that chance; one last chance for Ulag to prove his worth, and create a legend to last beyond his years. If he had made his mind up about throwing himself into that fight, there was no way she or anyone else could stand in his way. But she would be damned if she would let him do that without reconciling himself with his son. “Kel can’t live up to your expectations, explain himself, or ask your forgiveness unless you talk to him, and until you do-”

“Fine,” Ulag capitulated, his voice rough and tetchy. “Still your nagging tongue, woman. I’ll take him on a hunt in the morning and talk to him.” 

Thalia nodded her acknowledgment, smiling a little at his attempt to provoke her. It felt more like the Ulag she knew and loved, and as though to prove her right, he stood, reaching for her, clearly craving her comfort. She embraced him, stroked his coarse, greying locks and stretched up to press a kiss against his forehead, creased with the cares of many years. His hands gripped her at shoulder and waist, and when they moved lower, searching for a different kind of comfort, Thalia pushed him away.

“Not until you’ve spoken to him.” She couldn’t hide a smile at the look of chagrin on her mate’s face. “Talk to him, my Chieftain, otherwise bumfluff or no, there'll be no more midnight wrestling for you.”   
  
Ulag growled at her. “I’ll last longer than you will.”

“Care to put a wager on that?” Thalia raised an eyebrow at him and turned to leave their house before Ulag tried to call her bluff. She had no idea which of them would win in such a contest - or indeed if there would even be a winner. She emerged into the open air to find Torug and Nati the last stragglers at the fireside, and she asked her mate’s second-in-command to arrange a security detail for her son and his lover. Given the information Rani had shared with her tonight, she suspected they might need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary:  
> Kel'dan's mother talks his Orc father into having a conversation with his son.


End file.
